


Through The Cyclone Of The Phoenix

by RobinTheSlytherin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Adoption, Anal Sex, Anti-Hero, Dark, Double Penetration, Eventual Romance, F/M, Gay Sex, Graphic Description, Horror, Knights of Walpurgis, M/M, Multi, Possessive Tom Riddle, Sex, Sibling Incest, Threesome - F/M/M, Time Travel, Vampires, Young Tom Riddle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-07-06 11:12:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 103,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15884883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinTheSlytherin/pseuds/RobinTheSlytherin
Summary: Changing time can be a nasty business- especially if your thrown back 50 years by a Pheonix. With the help of Nicholas Flamel, the Golden Trio will face down more than one Dark Lord, and more than one potential enemy. The only question is, will their love for one another be enough? (TomRiddle/Hermione, Harry/Ron/Hermione) (TIME TRAVEL/TRIAD/DARK)





	1. Chapter 1

A/N- The Golden Trio only wanted time to heal, but that damn phoenix is as meddlesome as its master! Will they be able to find peace 54 years in the past? Can they rewrite fate, and one of a certain Dark Lord in training? Either way they'll die trying.

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Rated M for mature/sexual content/violence…if you are under the age of 18, please respect the rating.

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Tom/Hermione, Harry/Ron, occasional Hermione/Ron/Harry

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'Little Alice fell

D

o

w

n

the hOle,

bumped her head

and bruised her soul'

Lewis Carroll

'Alice in Wonderland'

.

Through The Cyclone of The Phoenix

By- RobinTheSlytherin

Chapter One

The Fall

.

May 2, 1998

Hermione huddles in the middle of the courtyard, or what used to be a courtyard.

Its become a necropolis.

She doesn't want to open her eyes, and see their bodies. She's seen too much death, felt too much pain.

Her teeth chatter and all she can feel is relief and terror…she feels so much terror she believes she will surely die from it.

But she wasn't dead. She had survived, and so had Ron, and Harry.

The hero's survived and the villains were dead…this was how it was suppose to be.

And yet…

She huddled closer to Ron and Harry, they were shaking too.

How long had it been since they had eaten or slept? Everything hurts. The lack of basic human needs has sent Hermione's mind into overdrive, except nothing makes sense and her thoughts and emotions are chaos.

She just wants to sleep. Just wants to go to Gryffindor Tower and fall asleep.

I want to sleep and never wake up, she prays to no one in particular.

She opens her eyes and immediately regrets it. A shriek tears from her throat at the sight of Voldemort's lifeless body only a few feet away.

She tries scrambling away.

She can't stop screaming, and then Ron and Harry are covering her eyes and pulling Hermione to her feet.

"Don't look at him!" Harry whispers frantically to her, his lips are against her ear and she feels his warm breath on her skin.

"He's gone. Its over Mione!" Ron kisses the nape of her neck and her jaw and her face. He kisses her all over, desperate to calm her.

He's shaking too.

But the damn is broken, and all the horror she kept hidden beneath her skin burst through.

Hermione grips them tightly "Its not over, it'll never be over…"

She's bawling like a child in their arms, clinging to them as if her life depends on it. She sobs, but the sound is inhuman. She can't breath.

"It hurts.." Hermione cries

Its too much.

Agony. Agony. Agony.

Voldemort had caused it all.

"I know," they say "I know."

She couldn't believe a human being could do the things he had done to other humans. It made no sense.

I hate him! I hate him so much, God I wish he had died withering in agony! Why did a single rebounded curse have to end his life? He didn't deserve such an abrupt end. It should have lasted.

He should have screamed.

Hermione could still smell burning flesh from the battle. She could still feel the ground pounding with the footsteps of giants. Frantic footsteps and curses flying in every direction haunt her.

It was only a few hours ago that the three of them ran over the bodies of their friends and peers. Bodies fell all around them, but they kept moving, kept dodging and cursing.

Hermione didn't realize how many dark curses she knew. She didn't until she was faced with death.

Her reflexes were quick, and even though she was on the edge of madness from sheer exhaustion she fought on.

She was quick and deadly…and so fucking scared!

It was kill or be killed. God, she just wanted it to stop!

She slammed the hilt of her knife into the eye socket of a Deatheater, and she didn't even blink.

It was like falling into obviation, into its darkest pit then being forced to claw out of it over the bodies of close friends and children.

Somehow, miraculously they made it through alive.

Harry fought Voldemort for what seemed like years.

But it wasn't…it must have been only minuets.

Harry faced the demon with a fire she had never seen. She was afraid.

"it's all you've got left!" He was roaring at the Dark Lord "'I've seen what you'll be otherwise! Please, can't you understand? You can be saved! Be a man . . . try . . . Try for some remorse. . . .I beg you, Tom. For your soul- you can become whole again!"

And he laughed. That high pitch decrepit laugh would never leave Hermione, not until the day she died.

Ron was covered in blood and gore, his eyes matched hers. They were wide-eyed with constant fear and a dull emotion of someone who had seen too much.

Neither of them had a shred of innocence left, only desperation and terror.

And then the curse rebounded. Voldemorts body arched backwards, his wand fell like a stone. And then his disfigured body fell to the ground in a heap.

He was dead.

Hermione realizes what's happened and suddenly Ron and her are leaping over the bodies towards him.

Harry is shaking. They all are.

And then they fall to they're knees and huddle together.

They're crying.

Ron bites into Harry's shoulder to keep from screaming. Harry doesn't seem to see us, his eyes are so distant, but he knows he's safe in they're arms.

His hands fists through Hermione's long hair, and she welcomes how violently Harry pulls her to his chest

But its been hours since that moment, but it doesn't feel like hours.

She sobs hysterically as Ron and Harry hold their hands over her eyes.

It feels like seconds.

And then they retreat into the ruined castle, holding hands.

Slowly they step over the bodies.

They ascend what's left of the staircase.

They make their way towards the Headmasters quarters.

They barely managed to slip in before the door was slammed shut behind them.

And once they're inside they're silent…they're close enough to feel one another's breath on their skin.

The air is heavy, too heavy. Obsessively heavy. Too heavy to breath.

And then Hermione's wrists are taken roughly by Ron and Harry, who give one other hard calculating looks.

She could almost feel the thrashing of their hearts against their chests.

And then she was yanked towards the headmasters bedroom. They took the spiral staircase two steps at a time.

Hermione's back connected hard to a pillar near an extravagant bed.

Dumbledore's bed…no Snape's bed.

Yes, Snape was the last one to sleep here, she thought as Ron and Harry tore the fabric off her body like animals.

She felt hands grab her collar and rip down the middle of her chest.

She felt cold air against her breast as they were exposed, and then a mouth.

This was the first time they had seen her like this…

God, she just wanted to feel like a human again. But she felt empty.

Ron took her wrists and pinned them over her head. He took her by the throat and squeezed gently as he kissed her lips.

She opened her eyes and nodded .

And then Harry let out a fierce growl and tore off the rest of her clothes.

She was naked with her arms pinned above her head, like some kind of human sacrifice

She could smell the blood and filth that covered them, but she didn't care, and neither did they.

And then they were naked in the headmasters bed.

Snape's bed.

He'd slept here less than 24 hours ago…

She should have felt ill at their level of desecration, but she didn't.

The mans body wasn't even cold yet, and here they were in Severus Snape's bed; naked, filthy, and fucking…

This was wrong. So unbelievably wrong, on so many levels.

Hermione gave a strangled half sob as they pushed her between themselves.

They had been best friends since they were eleven for Christ sake.

Never had either of them had the inclination to do something so taboo with one another. The thought never crossed their minds.

Even hugging wasn't something they usually did.

But they had reached their limit. Any other human would have broke by now.

They understood one another far better than anyone else could.

No one could ever understand, even if they spoke it aloud.

And so Hermione welcomed the pain as they entered her unprepared body.

She welcomed how violent they were.

Even after what happened at Malfoy Manor just days ago…. And Greyback…

No! Don't think about Malfoy Manor! Don't think about Greyback! She screamed inwardly.

Harry and Ron stared down at Hermione with feral passion as she begged them for more. And then they stared at one another.

And then their lips met.

Hermione couldn't look away at what they had become.

What she had become.

She inhaled their scents mingled with something else…something familiar.

The bedsheets still smelled like Severus Snape… sandalwood, clover, soap.

In the end he died a hero…she inhaled the scent in memory of him.

She knew it was wrong, but she clung to their scents, the pain, and their bodies.

fingers dug into her flesh, gripping her hips so hard she knew she'd have another set of bruises to add to her collection.

They kissed her, bit her, pulled her hair, and fucked her roughly.

And then when it was over, the trio lay naked, tangled in the bedsheets.

They held one another and didn't let go.

Then, for the first time in days, they fell asleep without the threat of someone trying to hunt them.

And they didn't regret a fucking thing that night.

Whether the act they committed was right or wrong, they just didn't care. They couldn't care- wouldn't care.

They had never slept so well in their whole lives.

August 26, 1998

Unlike Ron and Harry ,who took up positions as Aurors almost immediately after the war, Hermione choose to finish her education at Hogwarts.

Hogwarts… her home, was still in ruins. The smell of ash and blood was still being spelled away from the walls of Hogwarts. Still, Hermione Granger made it her mission in life to help rebuild, ward, and banish away all traces of horror from the past year.

Severus Snape's body had been retrieved, and given an honorable burial next to Dumbledore's grave. It seemed fitting to have both headmasters beside each other as they had been in life.

Most of the Death Eaters had been caught and were awaiting trial.

Most of the student body had been found…be that dead or alive.

Many students had been permanently admitted to St. Mungo's Psychiatric Care ,or the Irreversible Spell Damage Ward.

Hermione had visited once, and vowed never to go back. Seeing first year students driven mad from bloodshed wasn't something she could bring herself to face again.

Now, as she stood in the center of the Quidditch pitch with Rolanda Hooch, Hermione sighed. She slashed her wand across the entire field as a jet of pale green light, softer than the blinding green of an 'Avada', covered the charred earth.

The burnt earth transformed, and suddenly lush green grass sprang beneath the blackened earth, covering the field in soft green blades that swayed gently in the breeze.

It was as if the field had never been littered with gore. Every now and then she would come across a smudge of blood around the castle and stop to stare at it- trace it.

Who had it belonged to? Was it a friends, or an enemy's? Had they died? How did they die?

"Miss Granger, you've really outdone yourself. The old place is starting to resemble itself again." Madam Hooch interrupted Hermione's dark thoughts, smiling in approval. "You've dedicated yourself so passionately to rebuilding, you could give Madam Pince a run for her money. I swear the woman would've put her life down for that library."

Hermione forced a tight smile as she began lifting the collapsed towers, and Quidditch stands with a flick of her wrist.

"Yes, she's quite the force to be reckoned with." Hermione didn't want to make small talk, in fact she wanted to be alone.

"-nearly done restoring the section on Ancient Runes, I'm sure she'll be thankful to have her library in one piece again."

Hermione signed, flexing her fingers around her wand.

"Madame Hooch, I'm nearly done here. Why not head back to the castle to rest for a bit?" Hermione

It had been 4 months since the final battle. 4 months since she had been a fugitive on the run- half starved and desperate to survive…4 months since THAT day…

Instinctively she clutched her right forearm where Bellatrix Lestrange had carved into her flesh.

Mudblood.

It itched.

Mudblood.

The word hadn't made her recoil anymore, she felt numb to it.

But it still made her itch.

Sometimes she sat awake at night tracing the letters.

When she was an innocent girl with a bounce in her step and a hand in the air, always ready to answer any question…she thought herself so very lucky. Her life in the muggle world had been filled with rejection and solitude.

The children at primary school had considered her a freak when unexplainable things happened around her. And when she took that fateful boat ride across the Black Lake to Hogwarts, she KNEW things would be different.

Without a shadow of a doubt, things would be different.

They had to be.

But no…It had been the same.

Her blood had been filthy, tainted ,and impure.

She fought against it at first. She vowed to prove herself better than any pureblood alive. She would rise to power , then they HAD to accept her!

She would show all of them what dirty blood could do!

And then she was captured.

All Ron or Harry heard were her screams. They didn't see what the Death Eaters did to her.

Oh they knew what she had gone through…but they didn't see.

They didn't see how Bellatrix allowed Greyback to have his way with her. They didn't see Lucius whipping her bare back. They didn't see her other scars that marred her breasts and belly.

They only saw one word…because that was all she could bare to show them.

Mudblood.

The wound finally sealed itself, but the scar remained as red and vivid as ever.

Cursed daggers had a lasting affect. She was reminded of the tainted world she had once considered home.

The idea of Hogwarts being the safest place had been stripped…. Safety was a lie.

Gone was her innocence. She was scarred in more ways than one, and it hardened her. She realized this as she lay there in her own blood, watching Bellatrix turn on the Goblin, demanding to know who broke into her vault.

A single tear escaped, and she knew she would die. She knew all of her dreams had been lies she told herself would come true.

For hours she lay beneath Bellatrix as she sliced her skin and cursed her body to ribbons.

For hours she screamed in agony and fought every beating and rape.

For hours Draco was forced to watch Hermione wither in pain. And as Lucius and Bellatrix screamed that foul word at her

Mudblood…

She watched as Draco's eyes filled with immeasurable guilt and regret.

He was a prisoner too…

Never again would she allow another holocaust against muggleborns, halfbloods, or magical creatures.

She understood what the world thought of her now, and it hardened her.

She had new goals now, and she would make sure no matter how many times she had to bleed and fight, she would make those goals a reality.

The ambition she had for this burned world, was for it to rise from the ashes like a phoenix. She would rebuild this world of hate, no matter what the cost.

It was funny…. Funny that she empathized with Voldemort's flawed rise to power ,and it didn't disturb her in the slightest.

The war was over, there was nothing keeping her from finding happiness.

But did she want happiness? Peace yes, but happiness? She felt too tainted, too corrupted for such an idea.

She filled her days with study and work. However, her nights were filled with nightmares, and every night she experienced hunger, fear, and torture. It made her resolute in her vow to build a new world.

She shook herself and turned to examine the pitch.

After a day and a half of repairing the Quidditch pitch, Hermione let herself fall onto the freshly grown grass.

The sky was blue, the birds sang, the breeze made the trees rustle gently against one another.

September was only a few days away, and Hogwarts was already mostly reconstructed. Professor McGonagall gave her private lessons, but mostly Hermione spent her time studying alone.

She needed to take her NEWTS, finish school, and…

Light footsteps brought her attention back to reality. In an instant she had flipped herself over in a low crouch, casting a reflective blue bubble around herself.

"Calm down Mione! Its just me!" Ron held up his calloused hands in surrender.

Hermione didn't lower her wand.

"During 6th year you conjured a flock of birds to attack me. You accidentally turned yourself into a cat with a botched Polyjuice Potion during 2nd year. And when I came back ,after leaving you and Harry, you punched me."

Ron laughed, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Also we fucked in Snape's bed."

"S-sorry Ronald, I…I wasn't paying attention. Let my guard down…" Hermione lowered her wand, feeling a flush rise I her cheeks.

"S'alright Mione…its okay to relax. You deserve time to relax ever now an then. We all do." Ron muttered kicking the grass with the toe of his boot.

Hermione said nothing, but sank back down onto the ground and shut her eyes.

"Sometimes I feel like I'll never be able to relax again." She whispered more to herself than Ron.

"Me too, but I keep myself busy most days. Still a good number of dark wizards out there on the run." She could hear Ron sit down next to her and opened her eyes to see him tearing out pieces of grass, to distract himself.

Hermione narrowed her eyes then slowly shut them and sighed.

"Its okay Ron…. just say it. Its okay." She said quietly.

A gust of cool wind filled the silence and made it more comfortable…tolerable at least.

"You know you'll always be my best friend…you and Harry." He said quietly…carefully.

"I know Ron."

"And you know Ill always love you…"

"I know Ron."

"but…that's all I think we can be, just friends." Ron whispered falling back to lay beside Hermione.

Hermione was quiet for a moment before she rolled over on her side to face Ron.

His fiery red hair, his sun kissed skin, his blue eyes, these things she held with such affection. His protectiveness, and bravery, his wild temper, and humor, she loved these things about Ron…. but she was not in love with him.

Perhaps she was incapable of love.

"I think so too." She said as she scooted over to rest her head on his broad shoulder. "we needed each other this past year, desperately… but now… Now we need something entirely different. Ill always care for you Ron. Always."

He draped a muscular arm over her waist and pulled her in closer.

"I know. And I would die for you and Harry…I love you both, and I don't ever want to lose either of you."

His arms tightened around her and his expression became grave.

After nearly and hour of laying beside one another in comfortable silence, Ron turned to kiss the side of Hermione's head.

"You're not alone you know." He said affectionately, tenderly. "You'll never be alone. Harry and I, we'll always stand next to you…we would've died without your cleverness. I would have died."

Hermione glanced at his shoulder, knowing he had nearly lost an arm from being splintched.

Over the rest of his body were bluish tentacle scars from his attack at the Department of Mysteries. They wrapped around his arms, legs and neck. They resembed Maori tribal tattoos, and made him look quite fearsome.

Yes, we all have scars, she thought.

Hermione nodded solemnly "So would I."

"and….and what about your folks?" he whispered as he stared blankly into the blue sky.

"They're happy. Ignorant and happy." She said forcing her voice not to break "I walked right by them after I tracked them down, and they…. they were holding hands, they nodded as I passed them, but they didn't know me. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, but…"

Her eyes filled with unshed tears now, but her voice remained even and strong.

"They're happy, but they didn't know me…my mum and dad."

Ron nodded, then suddenly sat up and took Hermione onto his lap and held her as she began to quietly cry against him.

She was angry.

"You're my best friend, Mione. I'll always be here, yeah?" he said as he rocked her back and forth "Shhh, I'm here Mione, we're safe, we're alive-"

"I don't feel alive Ron" Hermione gasped, as she confessed her deepest fear "I feel like I died in that manor. I died on that bloody floor, Ron. I can still hear them, I can still feel him on me!"

She was hyperventilating now and clinging to Ron as if he was the only thing keeping her sane.

"Hermione listen to me, come back to me…shhh that's it. Breath in, listen to my voice. We're safe. We're free." He said softly in a chant "we survived, and I'll be damned if our memories kill us now- not after we crawled tooth and nail out of hell! We need to go on and live our lives to the fullest, and we can."

They sat together on the grass of the new Quidditch pitch in silence for what seemed like ages until a gentle voice broke in.

"Thought I'd find you two out here."

Hermione smiled, wiping her face as she and Ron sat up on their elbows to see a petite figure standing near one of the stands.

The figure was slender, with fair delicate features, although still as awkward as ever.

"Harry, how long have you been standing there?" Hermione asked rising to her knees.

She brushed her long brown locks behind her ear, and rose to stand.

Ron, she noticed appeared embarrassed for some reason, his blue eyes cast downward.

Harry smiled and shook his head as he approached his two best friends. His own vivid green eyes looked on in amusement in Ron's direction but said nothing of the young mans unusual behavior.

"We've been given the next few days off ,Ron," Harry said in a quiet voice as he sat down beside the pair. "apparently something to do with the Ministry needing us to testify at several hearings tomorrow. Hermione, I was given the letter requesting your attendance as well…"

Harry pulled out a rolled up parchment with the Ministry's seal, and passed it to Hermione.

She nodded knowing this day was coming.

"You don't have to go, you know" Ron said quickly at the sight of her tight expression. "In fact I don't think you should…especially with the Malfoys being-"

"I'm fine." Hermione cut him off "I'm fine."

Harry shot Ron a sharp look, but said nothing else regarding the trials.

"So we have the next few days off, think McGonagall will let us spend the night, Mione?" Harry asked gently, laying his head on Hermione's lap ,as he always had the habit of doing, so she could stroke his black messy hair .

"It feels strange not to wake up to either of you beside me anymore." Harry continued ,draping his dragon skin clad legs over Ron's thighs, who instantly blushed.

Hermione nodded as she laced her fingers through Harry's locks.

Seems like she wasn't the only one struggling with life after the war.

She could tell he hadn't slept well in days, Ron as well. The dark blueish circles under their eyes gave them away. No matter what mask they tried to wear, Hermione knew better, she always had.

Ron began unlacing Harry's boots, his blue eyes suddenly unfocused and far away.

"I don't feel like me…anymore." He muttered softly, as he slipped one of Harry's boots off to massage his arch.

Harry let out a breathy sigh, closing his green eyes, "Me neither… just….feel lost."

Hermione looked out over the Quidditch pitched ,past Hagrids Hut, towards the once glorious castle that no longer resembled itself.

"I don't think we can be ever whole again…We were survivors, but now?" Hermione whispered with pause "we're damaged warriors.. and the answers to the peace we need can't be found in any books."

"Well," Ron snorted lacking his normal spark of humor behind his blue eyes "That's a fucking first."

Later that night ,after Ron expanded her bed with an enlargement charm, Hermione lay awake listening to Ron and Harrys quiet snores.

Harry lay in the middle of the bed wearing powder blue pajama bottoms with a matching button down, Ron lay on the opposite side wearing nothing but a pair of scarlet shorts which showed off his muscular body in the most flattering way.

Hermione smiled as Ron unconsciously draped his arm over Harry's waist, pulling the young man closer.

Harry himself appeared to relax as he curled himself against Ron's chest.

Stupid boys, she thought with a sad smile, just figure it out already.

Hermione sighed, but felt more comfortable than she had in weeks. Being with Harry and Ron was something she had become so accustomed to during the war, it almost became unbearable without them.

Every night without them beside her was another night filled with nightmares and screams.

They took care of one another, and held each other when the present and the past collided. When they felt weak they would drop their heads on the shoulders of one another for strength.

And she was not alone in that thought. They needed time to heal.

Hermione had slipped on the Angelic Tosca lace chiffon nightgown, Professor McGonagall had given to her as a gift after returning to the castle to rebuild.

It was comfortable and pretty.

She stared at her reflection from her wall length mirror as she lay on her side.

Her hair had grown well past her hips in long tendrils of messy waves and curls.

Hermione had been on the run for so long ,something as common as getting a haircut wasn't prioritized.

Her large brown eyes held a fire, yet also carried a kind of softness. Her full lips took on a healthier color in the past four months. They were no longer chapped, bruised, and pale. They were full and pink and soft.

Her nose…

she turned away from her reflection painfully. She had her father's small, slightly upturned nose that reminded her of a pixy.

She exhaled pushing away thoughts of her parents and closed her eyes.

The castle was silent. Completely still and at peace.

Silent.

Then as Hermione turned to drift off to sleep the sound of silence was broken.

A deafening trill rang through her room and suddenly there was an explosion of red fiery light.

Ron and Harry instantly leapt out of bed, gripping their wands, eyes piercing and alert ,and bodies poised to kill.

Hermione already had her wand in hand ,and banished it towards the sound, but it was too late.

Out of the fire came Fawks, who hadn't been seen since the night Dumbledore fell from the tower.

Hermione clutched her wand in a shaky vice grip, as then phoenix's giant wings engulfed her, Harry, Ron into his wings of flames.

Fearing she would be burned ,Hermione cried out. Light exploded through her room until the world began to spin into a tornado of fire, and light.

The trio screamed as the flames licked their flesh, and electrocuted their veins.

And then they were falling.

They were on fire ,and they were falling she was sure of it.

Was this it? After all they had been through, was this how they would die?

No.

Goddammit NO!

The trio fell through the cyclone of fire and magic.

She wondered if Dorothy or Alice had felt this way as they had fallen into their own magical lands.

And then , after what seemed like an eternity, her body hit the ground with a thud, followed by two more.

The fire dissipated.

The pain was gone.

And so was her room.

She struggled to hold onto consciousness but found herself unable to, and let the darkness take her.

Her last thought being 'It smells like sunshine."

September 20, 1944

"AND LAZERUS BULSTRODE PASSES THE QUAFFLE TO URSA AVERY- AND IS IMMEDIATELY INTERCEPTED BY PERCIVAL WEASLEY OF GRYFFINDOR! SEEMS ALPHARD BLACK IS CALLING FOUL…AND THE FOUL IS GIVEN A REDCARD! SERVES YOU RIGHT YOU GREAT REDHEADED OAF! SOMEONE GIVE THAT REF A ROUND OF OGDENS BEST AFTER THE MATCH!...WAIT…..WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!"

Over the Quidditch pitch, colored in a sea of green and scarlet, the sky opened in an explosion of fire and wind.

Magic and color crackled through the pitch as a giant cyclone of fire, and lightning shot staite down into the center of the field.

Both teams flew away from the column of magnificent terror, and the stands erupted in screams and hysteria.

It was bedlam.

And suddenly a three small figures were falling through the cyclone.

Someone from the Slytherin side pointed and screamed as the figures fell. At once the professors were on their feet charging down the field with wands drawn, attempting to still the raging tornado of magic and fire.

The three figures were jerked this way and that like a rag dolls

Headmaster Dippet slowed the cyclone enough to stop any serious damage to the stands, but was still unable to stop it.

"Albus! Counter the wind pattern!" Dippet roared, but Albus Dumbledore was already making quick work on the elements.

Then after another second Albus shot his wand at the three falling figures from within.

"ARRESTO MOMENTUM!" He shouted as a translucent silver vapor shot from his wand and hit the figures thirty feet from the ground.

And then as the trio of strangers landed, the magic and fire of the cyclone dissipated as if it had never been there at all.

The stands fell utterly silent as the professors rushed towards the trio… of a girl, and two young men.

The girl was lovely, wearing a thin white lace chiffon nightgown with ribbon which splayed itself out around her beautifully. Her long light brown hair fell across her face and down her arms in a waterfall of waves and soft messy curls.

The young man with dark messy hair and a lightning shaped scar lay beside her.

The boy was as delicate as a girl, wearing powder blue pajamas.

Meanwhile a ruggedly handsome, red headed boy wore almost nothing at all, save a pair of scarlet shorts. His muscular body was scarred with beautiful patterns that resembled tentacles.

To the frightened audience that surrounded them, the three appeared more like fallen angels.

The fire hadn't singed an inch of them, and yet magic crackled around the three preventing anyone from getting too close.

Volts of electric current sparked between them dangerously.

Armando Dippet shared a look with Albus ,to which the auburn haired man nodded seriously, and turned away from the fallen child without the usual twinkle behind his blue eyes.

Dumbledore pressed his wand to his throat and held up his other hand.

"Prefects that are present, please lead everyone back to their designated common rooms until further notice! Today's game will be postponed until further notice! Pip-pip!" Dumbledore said calmly then clapped his hands.

The stands slowly began to filter the students out who spoke to one another in hushed tones.

Who are? Where did they come from? Was it dark magic?

Gossip began to spread like wildfire as everyone headed back towards the castle, giddy with curiosity.

Everyone, that is, except for a tall ,handsome ,young man, with dark hair and icy blue eyes. Eyes which narrowed hungrily at the magic crackling around the fallen strangers.

Powerful….magnificent magic.

Somethingy stirred within the boy, filling him with a certain demanding curiosity that would not fade.

What is this magic? He thought licking his lips.

Power radiated from the trio, he could hardly keep from salivating ,as a shiver passed through his spine.

He hid behind one of the towers until everyone was gone, then slowly stepped out, walking towards the professors , huddled around the three.

"Headmaster Dippet, the students have cleared the pitch. Is there anything I can assist you with, sir?" the handsome boy asked with quiet concern.

"Ah Mr. Riddle, thank you for the offer, such a thoughtful boy you are. However, I do not believe it wise to involve yourself until we understand what it is we've just witnessed-"

But whatever the headmaster was about to say was interrupted by the trill of a phoenix song. The fiery bird flew down from the sky in a pop of fire, and glided down towards Professor Dumbledore.

The transfiguration professor stood wide-eyed and fascinated.

The color of the fire from its appearance was the same from the cyclone they had witnessed earlier, making everyone give a start.

"Albus?" Dippet questioned staring at the magnificent creature that perched itself on Dumbledore's shoulder proudly.

"I haven't the slightest clue Headmaster…fascinating creature's phoenixes are." He muttered with a smile "By Merlin! I think the creature likes me!"

"Yes, well I haven't met a magical creature who wasn't taken with you, the question is why? Where in the world did this phoenix come from, surely it isn't a familiar of yours?"

"I have no familiar, headmaster, however, he really does seem taken with me- what a lovely thing you are!" Professor Dumbledore smiled as he stroked the birds fiery red and gold feathers.

Its black beak nibbled Dumbledore's earlobe, making the man chuckle.

Tom Riddles eyes widened. He had never seen a phoenix before, but read a great deal about them during his care of magical creature study.

He wanted to possess it.

As if feeling Tom's eyes, the creature turned sharply towards the Slytherin and let out a violent screech.

Tom stiffened, hating the sound. He didn't think the creature was as appealing as it had been a moment before.

Screech at me again, chicken, and I'll twist your wings off by the joints, and make damn sure you don't die after, he thought , glaring at the creature.

The phoenix turned back towards the trio, gliding down to stand near them.

The phoenix nibbled a strand of the mystery girl's wavy hair affectionately.

"Do you suppose the phoenix belongs to her?" Headmaster Dippet asked, taking a step toward the girl.

The phoenix cocked its head.

"I haven't the faintest idea, Armando. Although I do believe it's safe to take the children to the hospital wing. That was quite a nasty fall they had." Dumbledore stepped forward and knelt beside the girl whose breathing was quite shallow.

"yes, quite nasty."

Dippet shook his head with an amused smirk "Yet the fire did not touch any of them! Brilliant bit of magic that is!"

"Indeed, I've only known floo powder to burn without consumption." Albus mused curiously.

Suddenly the phoenix began to trill a lovely song. Tears welled in its round golden eyes before the creature allowed its tears to fall into the slightly parted lips of the girl.

Tom was transfixed. Her pink lips became moist with the glittering liquid. And then the girl gasped, and her heavy eyelids fluttered open.

Professor Slughorn who had been watching quietly finally spoke up with a start.

"Oh dear me! What a rare oppertunity!" He exclaimed , diving into his robe pockets with fervor "always keep a vile on my person for times such as this! Here we are!"

Slughorn passed Albus a empty vile, to which the Transfiguration professor cocked an eyebrow.

"Oh come now Albus! This opportunity shouldn't be missed! Those are pheonix tears, quite rare and important to potion making!" Slughorns gooseberry colored eyes gleamed with excitment

The auburn haired wizard gave an amused smile as he shook his head.

"Horace your keen eye for opportunity will never cease to amaze me." Albus chuckled good naturedly, as he knelt next to the girl who's soft hazel eyes locked onto his blue ones.

The girls eyes widened as Albus caught a single phoenix tear which ran down the side of her pink cheek.

"P-professor Dumbledore?" the girl whispered breathlessly, blinking rapidly before passing out again.

The girls eyes had been filled ,for a moment ,with both inconsolable sadness and disbelief.

Her sudden words shocked everyone who then turned to focus on Albus who appeared equally confused at the girls sudden recognition of him.

"Albus, it seems to me the girl and the pheonix know you." Headmaster Dippet smiled, before transfiguring one of his handkerchiefs into a stretcher and levitated the girl gently onto it.

"So it would seem, Armando." Albus nodded curiously, "So it would seem."

Neither of yhe professors noted the gleam in Tom Riddlea eye as he stepped forward flashing a perfect smile across his face.

"Headmaster, perhaps I should take the girl to the Hospital wing." Tom offered, voice filled with concern "I'm sure Madam Leval will want to make sure she hasn't been hurt, even if the Phoenix gave her its tears."

"Quite right Tom, Ill leave the girl in your charge." Dippet nodded claping a firm hand on Toms shoulder proudly "Such a considerate youth, Hogwarts is better with you has its Headboy. Now off you go, and do be sure to keep what you've seen a secret. Wouldn't want to stir the students up more than they already are, would we?"

"No sir, we would not." Tom nodded with an expression of genuine concern. "and don't worry Headmaster…I'll take good care of the girl."

Tom turned flicking his wand towards the stretcher and began making his way back towards the castle.

His perfect schoolboy expression melted as Tom turned away, into something dark and hungry.

Yes…. he would take VERY good care this mystery girl.

And if there was one thing Tom Riddle despised ...it was a mystery.

A/N - Hermiones nightgown- Angelic Tosca Lace Chiffon & Ribbons Nightgown & Peignoir (you can type this into pinterest and see the beautiful piece yourself. I adore a good vintage nightgown!)


	2. The Worst Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the trio wake up and meet Tomorrow Riddle

Through The Cyclone of The Phoenix

By- RobinTheSlytherin

Chapter 2

The Worst Idea

'Let's plunge ourselves into the roar of time, the whirl of accident; may pain and pleasure, success and failure, shift as they will - it's only action that can make a man.'

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Faust

.

Hermione didn't want to wake up. She was comfortable and warm.

For a single blessed moment, she didn't know where she was. It was one of those foggy moments where you only wanted to bask in the warmth of the early morning glow.

She wasn't in pain, nothing hurt, and she just wanted a lie in.

Slowly the world began to seep through the fuzz.

Blast.

Of course, she knew she needed to drag herself out of bed, she had private lessons with Professor McGonagall today. She also needed to finish repairs on the school.

So much to do, and she wasn't even fully awake yet.

The greenhouses need replanting…

Hermione kept her eyes closed for a moment longer, and sighed.

Ravenclaw tower needs a new roof…

She began to stretch, arching her back off the bed, throwing her head back.

The Slytherin common room is still flooded from the Black Lake. How to go about repairing that? Gillyweed and a wetsuit perhaps? Also, a dorm located beneath the Black Lake?

She was surprisingly well rested.

Of course she was. Ron and Harry had slept next to her last night.

She smiled, sliding her hand across the sheets, reaching towards them…

Only there was no one there.

Her brows furrowed, and she let out a faint whine. Her small hand searched but found no warm body.

"Arry…Ron?" she mumbled sleepily without opening her eyes.

She rolled onto her side, tucking her knees in. She felt her nightgown ride up her thighs, and slip across her skin.

"Ron…. Harry…cold."

Cold?

And then it hit her.

The smell.

She knew that sterile scent of antiseptic, and fresh linen anywhere.

The infirmary…but it couldn't be. The entire wing had been blown up. There was nothing left of it!

Her eyes snapped open.

Oh Merlin.

Yes, it was the hospital wing. But it was all wrong. The hospital wing was one of the many areas of the castle that had been destroyed.

"Awake I see." Came a soft silky voice she didn't recognize.

Hermione bolted upright, clinging to the sheets.

A tall black-haired boy was leaning against a pillar opposite her bed, watching her with glittering blue eyes.

Instinctively, she reached for her wand, but it was gone.

"You needn't fear, you're safe now." He said in a soft calm voice.

She looked up. The handsome boy was still watching Hermione from the pillar- twirling her wand between his long fingers.

"and so are…. Ron and Harry—?"

"Where are they?" Hermione leapt out of bed. She scanned the room till she found two beds with white curtains pulled around them.

Tom smirked, lifting an eyebrow towards the two beds. The girl ripped the curtains away from both boy's beds, and gasped at their unmoving forms.

She was pale now, and turned to stare at him with undisguised fear which brought a satisfied smile to his lips.

"Madam Leval assures me that they'll be right as rain when they wake." The dark-haired boy said sympathetically.

He continued to stare at the panicked girl, still twirling her wand idly.

"You've had quite a fall." The boy said pleasantly. His icy blue eyes never left Hermione's face. "I'm sure you have as many questions as we do—"

"My wand." She left no room for argument, holding out her hand. "Now."

The boys perfectly arched eyebrows traveled high upon his brow. His smile broadened. And then he began to laugh in a way which didn't suit him at all.

It was cold and made the hairs on the back of Hermione's neck stand on end.

And then he pushed himself off the pillar and uncrossed his ankles.

Hermione took in his appearance.

His hair had a slight wave which bordered on curly, parting off to the side. His lips were pink.

He wore a black high-collared dress shirt beneath his robes, making his skin appear pale like porcelain.

The high collar framed his angular face and made his pink lips stand out vividly.

His fingers were white, and long without a blemish.

There was a silver Slytherin Headboy pin on his chest.

Slytherin? But school hasn't started yet... And I don't recognize his face, Hermione thought rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands.

She was so confused.

"Here," the boy dangled her wand near the end of her bed "Take. It."

He swung the wand by its tip, and refused to take another step further.

He wanted Hermione to come to him, crawling across the bed.

No. That wouldn't do at all.

Inwardly she sent prayers of thanks for all the private lessons with Professor McGonagall, and summoned her wand into her outstretched palm without saying a word.

Clearly the boy hadn't expected that, and shot Hermione a glare which instantly melted into one of wide-eyed interest.

"Forgive me, we haven't been properly introduced yet, Miss-?"

"This is Hogwarts?" Hermione interrupted, crossing her arms over her white nightgown.

"It is." The boy said dryly, his tone clearly disapproving of being interrupted.

Hermione nodded and sat herself in the armchair in between Ron and Harry's bed, clutching her wand tightly in her fist.

"You're a Headboy," Hermione noted aloud, nodding to the silver badge on his chest "and a Slytherin."

The boy's eyes narrowed.

"I am." he said proudly, raising his chin defiantly.

Hermione nodded in approval.

"Ambition is a wonderful trait. I'm sure Slytherin house is proud to have one of its own in a position of influence, and leadership. Most leaders in the wizarding world have come from Slytherin House." Hermione commented thoughtfully, chewing on her lower lip "Yes, ambition is an honorable trait to have."

"And your traits?" the handsome boy asked a little too eagerly.

Hermione shrugged "Not really sure anymore. In the past I would have said logic and rationality."

"and now?"

"Survival. Adaptability…mostly a prolongation to live."

The boy's eyes widened "Yes, I understand that all too well…Forgive me if I haven't been the most hospitable companion. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Tom, Tom Marvolo Riddle, and as you've deduced, I am Hogwarts Headboy."

Hermione turned her head slowly, so very slowly to face the blue-eyed boy.

Tom…

"Your arrival was extraordinary to say the least—"

Riddle...

"Fell right out of the sky in a cyclone of fire- you and your two companions."

She couldn't breath.

"Headmaster Dippet will be thrilled that you've recovered. I do hope your friends- Ron and Harry, was it? I'm sure they'll come around soon enough."

Tom Riddle… Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Hermione felt her heart hammer against her ribs painfully. She felt cold all over, like someone had pierced her innards with a spear of ice.

"Are you alright? You seem so pale suddenly." Tom cocked his head to the side, and took a step towards her.

His demeanor shifted.

Gone was the courteous school boy that had smiled sweetly a moment ago.

And then he was in front of her. She shot out of her armchair, and then she realized how very tall he was compared to her.

She saw Riddles white hands clench and unclench.

For a second Hermione saw his right-hand twitch as though were longing to reach for his wand.

She looked up from Toms hand to find him watching her through hooded eyes.

And then he did something Hermione hadn't been prepared for.

He lifted his hand to stroke the corner of Hermione's mouth with his thumb.

THUMP-THUMP-THUMP!

Her heart pounded in her ears.

Hermione ran on instinct, and jerked back violently until her lower back hit the edge of Ron's bed, causing it to shift a foot to the right.

Toms blue eyes widened at her reaction, and his pink lips pulled off to the side into a smirk.

"Oh my," Tom whispered with a gleam of triumph in his eyes, and a smile that Satan in hell might be proud of "something's made your eyes grow…cold. I wonder what it could-"

But whatever he was about to say was cut off by a quiet groan.

"My…own…nee?" came a voice from the small dark-haired boy.

She called him Harry, Tom thought still captivated by the girl's obvious fear.

He loved it.

"Harry! Harry wake up!" Hermione shook the boy roughly, before landing a hard smack to his face.

Tom wanted to chuckle at the girl's violent ways, she was certainly entertaining to watch… and it didn't hurt that she was mildly attractive.

Tom liked it when pretty things were afraid.

Again, she smack the petite man.

"Merlin's saggy balls Mione!" Harry snapped, pushing himself up.

"Harry, get up now!"

"Wha?..where's Ron?" the boys vivid green eyes blinked and squinted, as if unable to focus.

Hermione grabbed Harry's glasses from the bedside table and shoved them onto his face, throwing Tom a frantic glance.

"Harry listen to me." She whispered quietly, so that only Harry could hear "We're in trouble, just stay calm. Whatever you do- don't react, and stay calm…"

Harry opened his mouth to ask why when his eyes found the figure standing behind her.

The boy's face was one that haunted Harry's dreams.

Harry had seen him before.

It was the same boy who lured him into The Chamber of Secrets. The same boy who commanded the basilisk. He was the same boy who would one day become Lord Voldemort.

Standing before him was the Heir of Slytherin.

Harry was staring into the face of—

"You must be Harry," the boy smiled as he pulled Harry's wand from his inner robe pocket. "it's a pleasure to meet you Harry. My name is Tom Riddle."

Harry, despite Hermione's initial reaction, was completely calm.

"Hello Tom…. it's nice to meet you too." Harry kept his voice even and soft, giving nothing away.

Hermione was impressed. The sorting hat was right, Harry would have done well in Slytherin.

"Could you please tell us how long we've been in the hospital wing? I'm afraid I'm out of sorts." Harry asked, as Tom passed his wand back to him, as well as Ron's. "What day is it?"

Tom nodded sympathetically.

"Of course, you've been here for about a week now." Tom smiled, moving to sit at the edge of Harry's hospital bed.

It felt unnatural.

Riddle was studying Harry intensely.

"Forgive me," Riddle said breathlessly as he gazed at Harry "but have we met before now? You seem familiar, somehow. There's a strange likeness I can't put my finger on."

Hermione resisted every instinct that told her to kill the boy. It would be so easy to cast the curse. She could say those words and mean it.

But it was Harry who spoke now in a pleasant voice that matched Toms.

"No," Harry said truthfully "You and I have never met. But I'm grateful for your company, you seem to know our situation more than we do."

"Indeed." Tom returned with unspoken curiosity. "It would be my pleasure."

I bet it would, Hermione thought with murderous rage.

Hermione tried to concentrate on her ability to reason the situation- to think logically even in the mist of danger.

Their predicament shouldn't have been possible, even with a time turner! And yet she remembered Fawkes and the explosion.

A Phoenix didn't have the ability, that she knew of, to travel through time! It went against everything she had ever read in the subject!

She couldn't accept it, and yet here they were. 54 years in the past with most evil wizard the world had ever known.

Her eyes were roaming the room now, searching for a way to escape. But she couldn't concentrate. Nervousness crept into every fiber of her body and mind.

She looked back at Tom who was still studying Harry with a small smile.

She hated that smile. Everything he presented to the world was a lie, a mask to hide the monster.

Even now she knew he was trying to manipulate them with his charms and smiles.

This was the boy who unleashed terror and destruction upon the world. And he was inches from Harry.

He had tortured, and murdered, and ruined countless innocent lives.

He was the fucking devil, and he was sitting INCHES from her best friend!

"Today is Friday, September 20th, 1944. And as I told….erm, forgive me, I don't recall-"

"Hermione." Harry offered.

Hermione shot him a withering glare.

Tom glanced over his shoulder, raking his blue eyes over Hermione's body.

He took in her bare feet, her naked legs, her white nightgown tied with silk ribbons. His eyes paused at her neck and widened before flickering up to meet here eyes.

"Indeed, as I told Hermione, you are at Hogwarts." Toms eyes glinted ominously, turning to face Harry "However, the circumstances of your arrival is something the entire castle is simply buzzing about. All three of you fell out of the sky in the middle of a Quidditch match. Perhaps you could fill in the blank spaces as to how you came to be here?" Tom asked absently as he traced a long finger against his jaw.

He was studying them, frowning slightly.

Hermione felt every muscle taunt, as if ready to dodge an Unforgivable.

Hermione's whole body went numb, and all she could feel was pure venom for the handsome schoolboy who was studying her again.

She felt sick as Riddle raked his beautiful blue eyes over her body.

Beautiful?

Yes, the devil was beautiful and smiled like an angel before he dragged you down to hell with him.

Hermione was reminded of a quote from Charles Baudelaire-

"La plus belle des ruses du diable est de vous persuader qu'il n'existe pas."….The devil's finest trick is to persuade you that he does not exist.

Oh yes, no devil here! Just a mere schoolboy who only wants to be of assistance.

What a sincere boy you are, Hermione seethed inwardly, such a good boy!

Harry looked to be in deep though but did not respond immediately.

"Tom, I'm sorry, but my head is still a bit fuzzy. If we're at Hogwarts that must mean so is Professor Dumbledore." Harry said quietly. "Am I correct?"

Both noticed Riddle tense up, and lips thin into a hard line.

"So, you know him, do you?" Tom said in a tight voice.

Harry shrugged.

"I mean, most people in the wizarding world know the man- he's Dumbledore, but we think he may be able to help us." Harry said without giving anything away.

Toms blue eyes narrowed slightly at Harry as if sensing he was hiding something more "I'm sure I could deliver your message to-"

"I'd like to speak to him myself, if that's alright. Its something important that I think he can help us with." Harry swung his feet off the bed, and noticed he was still wearing his blue pajamas.

Harry slipped out of bed and slowly stood.

Harry traced a figure eight with his wand, muttering a transfiguration spell at his clothes which instantly began to change.

Instead of pajama pants, the fabric retracted into a black form fitting trousers. His socks became thick boots that came over the tops of his knees, and his pajama top stretched itself over his body into a bottle green tunic, and robe which fell to the floor in layers of material.

Toms eyes widened at the finesse, and quality of his spell.

The boy's transfiguration skills were impressive.

Harry then pointed his wand at Hermione's white nightgown and did the same. But instead of trousers her gown fell into a floor length white robe, which cinched in at the waist and hugged her curves snuggly. A green sash appeared beneath her breasts in a small bow.

Hermione's eyes narrowed as the fabric over her breasts was pulled tight, outlining her figure like an extra skin.

Harry cocked his head to the side as if to say, 'oh please, don't look so surprised!'

Her sleeves belled out, and her neckline swooped below her clavicle, making her appear elegant and powerful. Harry also played with the layers so that Hermione had very small train of fabric flow behind her.

Tom thought she resembled a Slytherin pureblood princess. He looked on in approval at the color scheme.

But Harry wasn't done, and as his work continued, Tom Riddles eyebrows raised higher with intrigue.

With Ron, Harry decided it wise to continue the green color coordination, despite the contrary reaction Ron would no doubt have.

Despite having very little fabric to work with, save for the form fitting red shorts Ron wore, Harry made do.

He grabbed a pillow case and threw it over Ron's bare chest. The fabric turned a forest green, and wrapped itself around Ron's muscular chest into a high collared doublet. His arms were left bare to show off his muscular limbs, but Harry made a black and green cloak to hang from his shoulders and trail down his back.

After Harry was finished with the boots he turned to face Tom, looking far more a figure of command than he did a moment ago.

The trio looked the part of pureblood royalty, and Tom had been to enough pureblood balls to recognize such garb.

Toms eyes flashed for a moment with hunger and envy.

He had never owned such fine clothes in his whole life. The orphanage gave him nothing but rags, and the Hogwarts fund only allotted him three uniforms from a secondhand shop.

One day I'll wear clothes fit for a king, and I'll make my followers kiss my hem.

He continued to study the trio closely

Meanwhile Harry barley gave himself a second glance. He designed their garments to resemble Death Eater battle robes.

Harry was slender with a delicate build, but his body and mind had survived war, and the effects were unnerving.

"Please inform professor Dumbledore that we will meet him in the hidden place." Harry said.

Riddle blinked, confusion swirling behind his blue eyes.

"I don't think I'm familiar with this 'hidden place'." Tom said in slightly annoyed tone.

Harry took a step forward. Hermione had to keep herself from jerking her best friend away from the monster.

"If you have to ask, you'll never know…. If you know you need only ask." Harry said quietly without breaking eye contact with the world most dangerous human being "Tell him that's where we'll be."

Tom Riddle smiled brightly, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Interesting how familiar you are with Hogwarts, and yet so unfamiliar." Riddle leered, yet kept his perfect smile in place "I'm certain Professor Dumbledore will be thrilled that you've recovered."

Tom nodded to Harry and turned to face Hermione. "I know I am."

And with that the boy swept from the hospital wing leaving the trio behind.

The doors slammed shut and Hermione was instantly at Ron's side.

"No, no, no, no, fucking no!" she broke down with a sob, clutching herself around the middle as she fell beside Ron.

"We need to wake Ron and get to the Room of Requirement as soon as we can! There's no time to panic-HERMIONE!" Harry shouted, jerking her roughly by her upper arm "Shh, listen to me love. Listen, we need to wake Ron-yeah?"

Hermione nodded as she took in deep breaths. She had to pull herself together. This wasn't her. She didn't lose it when it came to life and death situations…and anything involving Tom- Fucking -Riddle was certainly a life or death situation.

"Rennervate!" She said pointing her wand to his chest.

The spell hit Ron with such force that he jerked upright and screamed.

"Where?! Harry? Where- what's going on? We were FALLING! OH, MERLIN CHRIST SHIT! WE WERE ON FIRE!"

Ron frantically began patting himself all over as if he was still on fire. He looked as if someone had just thrown a box of spiders at him.

"Ron!" Hermione shouted, shaking the red head by his shoulders roughly. "Get up, we need to get to the Room of Requirement- we'll explain everything once we get there! As much as we can anyway…c'mon Ron we need to hurry before he comes back…oh Ron there's nothing on you! c'mon!"

Ron's eyes were wild from the abrupt spell that woke him.

"Him? Who him?"

Panic and disorientation swam behind his eyes.

"M-mione, the hospital wing," Ron breathed pointing dumbly around himself.

The anxiety was heavy in his voice "the hospital wing…Its-"

It was Harry who came forward this time. He strode forward and grabbed Ron by the chin, forcing him to look up into his green eyes.

"Ron, we're in danger. We need to get to the Room of Requirement." Harry said in a soft voice, almost too quiet to hear. "And. We. Need. To. Fucking. Run."

Harry shoved Ron's wand into his large calloused hand, and Hermione could see it was shaking.

Hermione could hear the fear in Harry's voice, which had been so strong a moment ago.

Ron's blue eyes widened.

Without saying a word Ron stood from the bed, and grabbed Harry by the wrist, and then grabbed Hermione's.

He rushed towards the double doors of the hospital wing, and ran down the hall like a bat out of hell.

With Harry and Hermione in tow, he gripped their wrists tighter, painfully so.

Ron's long muscular body had been molded from the war. He was fast, and strong…and deadly.

He bounded down the hall with such speed that Hermione felt her feet barely touch the ground.

Ron had always been blindingly protective of them, and it made him ruthless.

Hermione's long hair bounced behind her as they ran. She cast a disillusion spell over them, while Harry took a moment to look behind them in case someone had seen.

He cast a silencing charm over them so that their breathing and footsteps were cloaked.

They struggled to keep up, but Ron didn't let up. He ran faster, taking the stone steps two at a time.

Ron's grip was tight around their wrists, but he didn't seem to notice.

When they arrived outside of the tapestry of Barnabas The Barmy, Harry broke away from Ron and began to pace seven times.

They were panting for air, but their adrenaline kept them alert.

He flicked his wand over them cancelling the silencing spell.

"Someplace safe. Someplace only Dumbledore can find us. Someplace hidden. Someplace Riddle can't find us. Someplace safe." Harry chanted repeatedly.

Ron's eyes bulged at Harry's mention of the two names. He still looked quite unsteady, but remained vigilant.

Hermione was sweating and panting from running. Her heart was beating wildly against her ribs.

She just wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

The last time she had been in the same castle with The Dark Lord…

No, she didn't want to think about the carnage. She didn't want to see all the dead bodies of her friends.

And the smell…

Ron had his wand drawn, with his back to the tapestry. His eyes scanned the seventh-floor corridor, and his body poised to fight.

They were scared shitless.

Scratch that.

They were OUT OF THEIR MINDS with pure fear!

Her heart wouldn't calm. The adrenaline was still pulsing through her veins.

"Its granted us access, c'mon" Harry panted, as he opened the wooden door that appeared out of no where.

The trio rushed into the room, with Ron walking in backwards last, wand pointed to nothing in particular.

As the door shut the three turned to find a complete replica of the Gryffindor common room as it has been before the war.

Hermione's eyes prickled with tears. She brought her hands to cover her mouth, swallowing down a sob.

It even smelled like walnuts and kindling…it smelled like home.

Squishy armchairs, ornate tapestries of roaring lions, drapes of scarlet and gold, plush carpets, and a roaring fire welcomed them home.

Ron, still weary from being magically woken, and obviously still recovering, was the first to claim an armchair. He was so pale.

Harry fell to his knees beside the fire in a heap, staring into the flames, lost in his own chaotic thoughts.

He became eerily silent.

Hermione slowly walked towards another armchair, but didn't sit. She stood gripping the fabric with one hand, letting her nails dig into it.

With her other, Hermione brought it to the corner of her mouth where Tom hand stroked it earlier. She felt dirty.

"You said two names…" Ron said dangerously, screwing up his face, and rubbing his eyes the heel of his hand. "You said…. for fuck sake! Dumbledore and Riddle are dead! Why would you say their names, Harry? Why?! What the hell is going on?"

Harry was silent for a moment before turning to Hermione, his eyes pleading for her to help him understand.

Hermione gave a pause, attempting to collect her thoughts from the chaos going through her mind.

She just wanted to wake up tomorrow in her own bed with Ron and Harry beside her.

She wanted to finish her last year of school without having to deal with a fucking psychopath hell bent on killing them!

She just wanted peace…

"We've traveled back in time. Apparently…" She said, hating every illogical word "Ron, we've gone back fifty years into the past. I don't know how exactly we came to be here, but what we do know is that Dumbledore is here within the castle….and so is Tom Riddle. We saw him. Spoke to him."

"f…fifty…years?" Ron's hand lowered slowly from his face, but he didn't open his eyes.

Hermione wanted to reach out to Ron, but his anger was pouring off of him and she knew he needed space.

"You saw him?" he asked, his voice laced with fury.

Hermione nodded shakily.

"When I woke up…Merlin, he was there! He was just sitting there watching us sleep. He had our wands, and he was smiling at me! He was twirling my wand! And he smiled like he was playing some twisted game!"

"He had our wands?!" Ron demanded, leaping back to his feet. He pulled out his wand, and examined it carefully, away from his body as if it might burn him.

Hermione felt her heart in her throat.

"He more than likely used Priori Incantatem to track what spells we used last. He could have seen up to a year's worth of spells!" Hermione nearly shouted in frustration "Explaining why we've used dark magic, Unfogivables, and battle curses isn't exactly at the top of my list for conversation starters. I only hope he hasn't mastered Legilimancy yet. I don't like the idea that he may have looked though our minds while we were unconscious."

"Fuck me." Ron swore, fisting his hands through the sides of his flaming red hair. "Fuck me."

"My sentiments exactly." Hermione nodded with a shudder, as the urge break down and cry passed.

Harry was still sitting quietly, with his back to them, looking into the fire.

"I remember being in my quarters. You two were already asleep. Then there was an explosion. I saw Fawkes though the flames." Hermione continued, as she took in the sight of her old common room. "And then fire, and magic engulfed us."

"We were on fire. I could feel it in my bones." Ron hissed, fisting his hands through his red hair. "We were on fire and falling. I thought we were going to die. I wanted to die— Merlin, the pain!"

Hermione wrapped her arms around her waist, and began to pace.

"Tom spoke to me. He said we fell through a cyclone of fire, during a Quidditch match." Hermione said as she paced "and then I remember opening my eyes and seeing Professor Dumbledore kneeling over me. I thought it was a dream. I thought all of it was a dream."

After Hermione spoke there was silence.

And then Harry turned to face them with tears in his eyes.

His face crumpled as he clutched onto the carpet beneath him.

Hermione gasped, and Ron stepped forward, but stopped dead in his tracks at Harry's words.

"It hurts." Harry passed a shaking hand across his forehead, and drew in a long shuddering breath "My. Scar. Hurts."

.

Tom strode down the corridors towards Professor Dumbledore's office. His school cloak billowed gracefully behind him, but even as he felt the need to hurt something, he couldn't shake the burning feeling of jealousy that filled his chest.

That boy with the scar, Harry, had made such extravagant robes from practically nothing. His mastery over transfiguration left Tom to feel both admiration and hate for the delicate boy.

Ugly jealousy burned a hole through Tom.

One day, Tom thought as he gripped the worn cuffs of his second-hand robes, one day I'll wear the finest clothes, I'll never have to live off the welfare of others, and I'll never go hungry again.

Setting his mouth in a tight firm line, Tom narrowed his icy blue eyes in angry determination.

Still, there was something about that green-eyed boy that Tom couldn't shake. That boy was much too familiar, and yet Tom couldn't place his face in any memory he had.

Those three had been hiding something quite important. He always had a talent of knowing when someone was lying to him.

Perhaps it was because he paid attention to detail, or maybe it was a power he possessed that others didn't.

Tom had always been special.

Never the less, Tom had examined their wands, and what he found was quite disturbing.

He couldn't help but throw back his head and laugh.

Harry, the delicate boy, had in the last year used nearly every Unforgivable- except the killing curse- multiple times!

So not only talented with transfiguration then.

Interesting…

Not such a delicate little dandy after all.

The large red head's wand had been filled with traces of blasting, slicing, and incarceration hexes. So many, many curses. Out of the three, he was the one who seemed have enjoyed using such spells. He used them often enough for Tom to believe so.

And then there was that girl.

She was a different matter all together.

The traces in her wand were complex, and frankly some of the most intricate spell work he had ever seen.

Although, she too had quite a violent history within her wand, most had been protective and defensive spells.

Her recent spells were of growth, and healing, and construction.

How utterly boring.

Tom didn't recognize many of the spells, which puzzled him. He knew more spells than any student at Hogwarts. He spent days buried in the library, and his nights practicing within the Chamber of Secrets.

He thought of the girl…Mione…no…Hermione.

Yes, Hermione, that was it. Such an unusual name, most likely a Pureblood.

Tom's mouth curled into a wolfish grin as he thought of how terribly frightened she looked.

He had scared her, but the question was, why?

As Tom rounded towards the transfiguration classroom he couldn't help but think upon the riddle Harry had given Tom to deliver.

'If you have to ask, you'll never know…. If you know you need only ask.'

Another mystery to solve. Great.

And what hidden place did this mystery boy know that Tom did not? The very idea made his blood boil.

Hogwarts was his home, his domain.

His long strides brought him before Professor Dumbledore's office within minutes. As he stood there about to knock the door swung open on itself.

"Please come in Mister Riddle." A calm voice called from within.

Tom made sure his smile was in place before entering.

The office appeared to reflect the quirkiness of its owner in everyway.

There were odd golden objects littered upon spindle legged tables, which spun and made funny noises. Small telescopes which could see into the depths of space hung in sets of three near a bookshelf.

But what caught Tom's attention was a tall golden perch which was currently occupied by the mystery phoenix.

The phoenix gave a sharp trill which sent a cold chill down Tom's spine.

"Ah Tom, good to see you!" came a friendly voice from beneath a large ornate desk.

A second later Professor Dumbledore's auburn head popped up from behind his desk. The older wizard gripped onto the sides of his desk to push himself up.

At that same moment the man popped a small black candy into his mouth, chewing happily.

"Licorice snaps! Sharp slippery little devils, but they're quite a delight!" Dumbledore nearly sang as he sat himself down behind his desk and rubbed his hands together with a clap. "Could I tempt you? Or perhaps a lemon drop?"

Did this old manky wizard just eat candy off the floor? Tom thought, fighting the urge to vomit, and they call him a fearsome wizard?

"Maybe another time, Professor." Tom shook his head with a polite smile.

"Actually, I've come to inform you that our guests have just woken." Tom explained, then paused.

"And has the headmaster been informed, Tom?" the older wizard asked peering down his crooked nose at Tom who flinched under his gaze.

He didn't like the fact that the headmaster was a Legilimens, if only he had been born with such a skill!

Mastering it was harder than Tom anticipated, but he was getting better at it.

"No sir, our guests seemed to know you- or at least that was my impression. They've asked for you to meet them…" Tom paused again "In the hidden place."

Dumbledore eyes widened.

"hidden place?"

"They told me to tell you that's were they want to meet you…and also." Tom took a deep breath "'If you have to ask, you'll never know….If you know you need only ask.'"

At this Dumbledore chuckled to himself as he stood.

"How interesting!" The elder wizard continued to laugh "Thank you Tom for coming to me. I'll be sure to give them a visit."

"sir I—?"

"Now Tom I think you should be off." Dumbledore cut off, patting his shoulder.

A gesture which repulsed Tom, and made him inwardly seethe.

While most were comfortable with tangible touches such as these, Tom could only identify them with pain.

The matrons did not touch you at Wools Orphanage, unless it was with the back of their hands, or with a switch or cane.

Gods, how Tom hated the cane!

While others lived happily with touch, Tom dreaded it.

"I think its nearly time for lunch, off you go! Pip-pip!" Dumbledore patted Tom again, following him towards the door.

Tom smiled, clasping his hands behind his back and bowed.

"Good afternoon professor." Tom said pleasantly as he walked out the door towards the dungeons.

His fingernails dug painfully into the palms of his hands as he strode down the corridor.

Dumbledore was always so easy to dismiss Tom.

And he hated the insignificant feeling that burned within him.

I hate him.

I hate all of them…

When he entered the Slytherin Common Room there was no one there, except a small slender girl curled up in a black armchair fast asleep.

Slowly he descended the stone steps towards the girl. Her pale blonde hair splayed over she shoulders.

Her pointed pale face was relaxed, and she held an open charms book in her lap.

As Tom stood above the Second-Year girl, a familiar sensation spread through his body, his limbs, his chest, and fingertips.

It always started like this.

He could feel a part of him disappearing, retreating within himself.

No! His thoughts shouted back at him, I have the right to feel just like every other human! I'm allowed to feel hurt, and why shouldn't I?! I'm human too!

Tom shook his head with a violent jerk, making his neck give a sharp CRACK!

No, you are more…so much more than human!

You. Are. Above. Them.

He had to banish those toxic emotions that made him feel hurt, or venerable. He shoved them deep down inside of himself- all those emotions that made him human and turned against him.

But I want to be human, and I want—

STOP IT!

Tom slashed his wand downwards, levitating the pale girl towards the boy's dorms.

The girl didn't stir, which made Tom smile darkly to himself as he hummed a folk melody.

Nebula Malfoy was a small runty little thing. She possessed none of the ruthlessness of her brother Abraxas, nor any cunning fit to be a Slytherin.

Why she had been sorted into the snake house was anyone's guess. She was quiet, bright, kind, and exceedingly generous.

She was the epitome of human weakness, and in her gentle face Tom saw his own weaknesses.

And if she was the incarnation of weakness, there was only one thing to do about it.

Tom entered the dorm to find it empty, not that it mattered.

He strode past the line of beds and slipped inside of the boy's showers.

His footsteps echoed, still Nebula Malfoy remained peacefully unaware.

"My Lady d'Arbanville, you look so cold tonight  
Your lips feel like winter  
Your skin has turned to white, your skin has turned to white" Tom sang quietly as he set Nebula down in the center of the washroom

"My Lady d'Arbanville, why do you sleep so still?  
I'll wake you tomorrow  
And you will be my fill, yes, you will be my fill…"

The girl was small for a Second Year, she could have been mistaken for 9-year-old. Never-the-less the aristocratic Malfoy features were prominent and sharp.

Because of a name she would one have more power than Tom without even having to open her mouth. He had more talent and ambition in his fingernail than this blonde little Malfoy shit had in her whole body! And already she was considered to have a higher standing in the wizarding hierarchy that he!

It burned at Tom.

I'm meant for more than this, he thought passionately, and one day they'll all fear MY name! On that day I will be more fearsome and powerful than any pureblood living…greater even than Albus Dumbledore.  
Tom placed a silencing spell over the washroom and warded it against intruders.

Weakness could not be abided…

Tom slowly smoothed his hair back, taking a deep soothing breath.

He shut his eyes for a moment and smiled.

A leaky shower head dripped and echoes quietly in the stalls.

Another deep breath .

And then Tom Riddle kicked Nebula Malfoy as hard as he could in the ribs… and he didn't stop.

Screams.

Seeing her grey eyes bulge from her skull, only motivated him to inflict more pain.

She screamed horribly.

He wouldn't bow to his own weakness! And he would stomp out any he found!

He didn't stop when she begged. In fact, Tom began to laugh.

Worthless little cunt! You have all the power just for being born a Pureblood! Why do you get the world and I get nothing?!

He didn't stop when he heard her ribs break.

Why does he dismiss me so easily? WHY?! Haven't I proven myself?

He didn't stop when his shoes soaked with blood.

He didn't- couldn't stop.

"STOP! P-PLEASE TOM!" she bawled in agony at his feet.

And then he did.

Tom knelt, and caressed her blood-soaked hair, hushing her softly.

"W-why…. Why Tom?" Nebula cried choking on a sob "You're a nice b-boy. Abraxas is your friend! Why Tom?"

She looked up, her grey eyes filled with tears burning with betrayal.

Toms hand struck out as quick as a viper and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up into his stoic face.

"Because I don't know any other way to get this out of me." Tom laughed without emotion, pointing to his head. "and I rather enjoy it- CRUCIO!"

She wailed against the stone floor, in a ball of sheer pain, but Tom didn't stop.

He sent a bright red curse from his wand towards her right ankle. The effect is instantaneous and forced her foot to twist 180 degrees.

It was macabre and terrible to see her white bones splintering out of her skin, and yet…

Her scream was deliciously unbelievable. Tom could hear all those tiny bones crack and her joints pop out of place.

"Ohmygodpleeeeease! ABRAXEUS! IT HURTS-ITHURTS!- GOD! HELP ME!" her tiny voice screamed itself hoarse "G-god..."

Tom half closed his eyes, shaking his head affectionately.

"No God, sweet girl…none but death. And often I am he." Tom replied, straightening up.

He cast a glance towards one of the floor length mirrors and held his own gaze.

But something was wrong with it.

His eyes had become a deep shade of red, causing Tom to take a step back. He stared in morbid fascination.

And then he blinked, and his own blue eyes stared back at him as if they had never been another color.

As Nebula cried pathetically, Tom turned back to face the girl who began crawling away. Her foot dragged behind her; limp, twisted, and dead.

And then he stepped on it with the heel of his boot crushing it.

The sound was indescribable.

Nebula screamed until she passed out from the pain, but Tom refused to take his weight off of her small deformed foot.

"Don't worry, sweet girl." Tom reassured the unconscious pureblood with a gentle whisper "when you wake up everything will be as it was…Obliviate!"

.

Hermione sat on the floor across from Harry who began singing a soft melody to himself.

"My Lady d'Arbanville...why do you sleep so still?...  
I'll wake you tomorrow  
And you will be my fill…"

He was staring into the fire and it reflected in his green eyes.

And he was rubbing his scar.

"that's pretty…" Hermione smiled, but only felt concern for Harry.

He shuddered and shook his head.

"No its not. It makes me feel… I don't know...sick? I've never even heard it before." He replied shortly, rubbing at his scar furiously "God…it fucking hurts."

Hermione was shook to her core. Whenever Harry's scar burned, death and pain always followed.

Ron leaned against a wall his arms crossed over his broad chest. He was glaring at the door and chewing on his inner cheek.

She could practically feel the impatience pouring off Ron.

Hermione stood and crossed the room to where Ron leaned, and touched his arm very gently.

His scowl did not soften, but he sighed, and pulled Hermione into a tight hug.

"Its okay, love." He said, although Hermione knew he didn't believe it himself. "We're okay."

"Ron, I know what your thinking, but please stay calm." Hermione said, hugging her best friend back "Dumbledore might have had nothing to do with this."

"Fawkes is his Familiar, Hermione." He ground out, releasing her.

He held her at arms length by her shoulders "that damn bird only obeys its true master- and we know bloody hell who that is! This reeks of Dumbledore- look at the wild goose chase he sent us on this past year! I'll never forgive him for that. Not ever."

"Ronald—"

"because of his insistent need to play the puppet master, I lost brothers, Harry nearly lost his life, and you were tortured and raped!"

Hermione flinched back as if she had been struck.

Harry turned to give Ron a sharp look, "Enough." He snapped, causing Ron to have the decency to look away.

"I-I think we should speak with Professor Dumbledore of this time. If anyone could give us a hint as to what's going on it'll be him." Hermione said gently, as if trying to calm a caged animal. "let's collect the facts first."

Behind them Harry let out a snort.

"It wouldn't be the first time we were sent back in time by Albus-Fucking- Dumbledore." Harry sneered, rising to his feet. "or don't you remember third year, Hermione?"

"Language!" Hermione snapped, breaking away from Ron. "We need to be cunning Harry! Remember where, and when we are! The Dark Lord is currently strutting about the castle in the guise of a polite, well mannered schoolboy. We have the advantage, but only if we keep our heads, and put them to good use! Knowledge is the ultimate power…and in this case, we're Gods."

"I REMEMBER EXACTLY WHERE ND WHEN WE ARE!" Harry roared at the top of lungs "Who do you fucking think killed that bastard last time?! ME! And now we have to go through hell AGAIN! Dumbledore is responsible for this! He's always been the puppet master! He raised me like a pig for the slaughter, and even now from beyond the grave he's at it again!"

"Harry!"

"God what I wouldn't give to kill them BOTH this time around!"

"HARRY!"

"WHAT?!"

Hermione held her hands up and took a cautious step forward.

"Your eyes are red, Harry." Hermione's voice broke as did her heart "you're channeling him just like last time."

"w-what?" Harry voice faltered with his anger, and he turned to face the fireplace mantle.

His eyes were blood red and dilated.

"No." He breathed and screwed his eyes shut. "No, no, no!"

And then he opened them only to find his own green eyes gazing back through his reflection.

"Harry," Ron stepped forward and instantly swept the smaller boy into his fierce embrace. His muscular arms wrapped themselves securely around Harry as if his life depended on it. And then Ron did something no one expected.

He lifted Harrys chin and kissed him softly on the mouth.

"Come back to us." He coaxed the raven-haired boy "Come back, Harry. We won't let that monster twist you with his evil. I WON'T."

Harry and Ron shared a deep trusting look, and nodded.

Hermione blushed and turned away to pick at the fabric of the armchair.

Stupid boys, Hermione thought fondly, always needing some traumatic reason to open themselves up to the truth.

"Our options are simple." Hermione said quietly after a moment "It will be another 20 years before the first Time Turner is created. Perhaps Dumbledore knows of alternate way to get back ,with the help of Fawkes…but then again he may not. If that's the case, do we- One: go into hiding for the next twenty years, then steal ourselves a Time Turner. Two: get a head start with hunting Horcruxes, kill the Basilisk, and its master. Or three…"

Ron and Harry broke apart looking embarrassed and flushed, but nodding for her to go on.

"Three…we enroll in our final year under the pretense of taking out NEWTS and finishing school. While at the same time getting ourselves sorted into Slytherin—"

"Are you MAD?!" Ron interrupted, his hands fisting through his red hair "You want us to willingly sleep in the same dorm as mini You-Know-Who? Eat breakfast with him? Pretend we don't know about his future plans of genocide?! Hermione…. darling I love you, but what the fuck?"

"Where are you going with this Mione?" Harry asked quietly.

Hermione folded her arms turning to face Ron.

"You're the best strategist I know of, Ron. By definition you are as cunning as any Slytherin. As for Harry, well the Sorting Hat already told he would do well in Slytherin! Perhaps this is what he meant? Riddle is without any family or true friends. Professor Dumbledore himself brushed Tom aside, and he became bitter because of it. Love is something he has never understood… so why not give it to him? After all, he isn't the Dark Lord yet. He's still just a teenager like us."

Yeah, even she didn't believe that load of crap.

"Mione, Riddle has already killed two people. His own father and Myrtle. He's already created two Horcruxes: the locket and the diary." Harry said ticking off the offenses on his fingers "He already has a small group of followers! Perhaps if we had come when he was a first year…but he's already Lord Voldemort!"

"Didn't you yourself beg Riddle for remorse in the end, Harry?" Hermione voice snapped like a whip "Even after all the horror, you were noble enough to give him one last chance to die as a whole human being."

"And he didn't take it!" Ron yelled "That monster is incapable of remorse."

"the Voldemort of our time was incapable of it…. but perhaps a seventeen year old Tom Riddle may be capable, if given the opportunity."

Harry scrubbed his face with his hands and sighed.

"Given the opportunity he'll more than likely try to convert us. But he'll most likely try to kill us." Harry muttered "but... you may have a point…everyone deserves a second chance."

Hermione thought of Professor Snape and nodded in agreement.

"I hate him, Mione." Ron finally said in a low voice "after what his followers did to Percy and Fred…I want to kill him, even if it means corrupting our own timeline. Even if it means causing our own existence to be erased. We can save thousands of innocent lives."

Hermione nodded and took both Ron and Harry into her arms.

They all had lost family to the Dark Lord, in one way or another. They had been through hell and back. And their souls were shattered.

All they wanted was peace, but that never seemed to be an option.

When Hermione thought of the night she was tortured and raped, all she could do is imagine ways of making them suffer. She would lay awake at night and dream of the many ways should wanted to dispatch her attackers. She wanted them to die a slow painful death, but—

"If we kill him before we've given him an opportunity to redeem himself, we're no different than him." Hermione said, shutting her eyes with a smile

"Merlin knows I want him to die. I dream of all the ways I could do it... You have no idea the books I've read, all the spells my mind has retained. I could make it last for days… it would be so incredibly easy to just let….go."

Hermione's eyes glazed over with a feral gleam. Unconsciously, her pink tongue darted out to lick her teeth.

She hummed, and closed her eyes in pleasure.

It had been quick, but made a lasting impression.

It was one they never wanted to see again.

It was as if she felt true pleasure at the idea of unleashing her bloodlust.

Ron and Harry watched a wave of madness pass over Hermione. It was disturbing, and for just a split second she looked almost as unhinged as Bellatrix.

And then it was gone.

"Hermione?" Ron asked quietly, reaching out to grasp her fingers in his large hand.

"We can't be like him. If we do, then we've already lost." Hermione shivered, reaching out to take Harry's hand with her free one.

They stood together, hands clasped, and stared at one another in silence.

"Merlin's balls, are we really going to do this?" Ron whined, letting his head fall back.

"Its mad." Hermione nodded, unsure if any choice they made would be the correct one.

"It's the worst idea we've ever had." Harry muttered "the absolute worst."

"And we've had a ton of those." Ron nodded "but yeah this tops them all."

Hermione squeezed their hands and gasped "Oh my God… we're about to befriend Voldemort."

Ron chuckled under his breath, lacking any humor.

Harry shut his eyes and huffed "Why can't our paths ever be striate and clear? Trouble always finds us even when we try to sleep."

There was a horrible, swelling, billowing silence that followed.

Then Ron gave a tiny jerk of his head that they understood to mean- well if we must.

It was at that moment that the door to the Room of Requirement opened.

The trio held their breath as a tall, thin, auburn haired wizard entered the room. His lavender robes were covered in tiny stars and upon his head he wore a matching pointed hat.

His eyes sparkled a brilliant soul piercing shade of blue that held both kindness and mischief.

At the end of his long crooked nose sat a pair of half moon glasses, which he adjusted with his long skillful fingers.

Harry held his breath, his hands clenched so hard his knuckled became white.

"Alas!" The older man clapped cheerfully, stepping further into the room. "Our very own Order of The Phoenix has awakened!"

Albus Dumbledore failed to see the blood drain from the trios faces at his comment, or the look of stunned grief that filled their eyes.

Instead, he pulled a handful of candy from his pocket and asked, "Licorice Snaps?"

.

A/N— Lol DON'T eat the Licorice Snaps!

Also of you were curious about the song Tom was singing its called 'My D'Arbanville' by Tartanic from their album Uncivilized. I had the pleasure of meeting them twice and it was magical!

If you appreciated this chapter, please review


	3. Fawkes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a magical adoption is made and a discovery is made by Hermione

Through the Cyclone of The Phoenix

Chapter 3

Fawkes

.

"I am terrified by this dark thing that's sleeps in me; all day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity."

Sylvia Plath

Elm

.

Dumbledore sat listening to the trio's tale. A grave expression made his usually soft features hard.

His initial impression had been intrigue, which then turned to deep trouble.

So, the phoenix was his after all. Although, how he ever managed to domesticate one was far beyond his comprehension.

Phoenixes were extremely faithful magical companions. Although, each of their lifespans were considerably short, they always burst into flames towards the end of their life, and then were reborn from their own ashes.

Phoenixes were pure beings made of pure magic, not unlike the unicorn.

But perhaps the most fascinating traits of a phoenix were their tears of healing, and ability to carry immense weight.

"You realize that by telling me this, you've perhaps completely eradicated your future as you know it?" Dumbledore said finally, looking every one of his years.

The middle-aged wizard fell back in one of the squishy armchairs, his frail hand against his temple.

Hermione sat on the edge of the coffee table near the fireplace. Seeing her old headmaster alive was overwhelming. A part of her wanted to hug the elder wizard, and the other half wanted nothing more than to hurt him and break his weary face.

She felt too much, and wished the old man would just disappear.

"We hope we can do more than just destroy our future." Hermione replied, looking away from the wizard "even if we disappear, at the end of it all… we can't fail. That isn't an option."

"Do you truly believe you wouldn't be effected seeing your friends disappear?" Dumbledore asked, leaning forward "I can tell you no matter what pain you've been through, nothing can prepare you from losing a loved one."

Hermione fought not to become hostile. It was getting harder not to give in to the violence that swam beneath the surface.

"Of course we would be effected!" she replied fiercely "How could we not be? But if you'd seen our future, even for just a glimpse of it you would understand. This decision wasn't an easy one! So, don't you dare sit there and say things you know nothing about!"

Dumbledore's normally twinkling eyes were sad, and heavy with emotion. He shook his head slowly.

"What a burden you must bare." Dumbledore was fixed, but he had listened to Hermione's heavy words "What an awful, tremendous burden for any human to bare."

He'd seen that what they said was true. Their eyes held no lies.

"I've always suspected there was a darkness in Tom, certainly a flair for manipulating others with his charms. Even as a child…but never could I have conceived him capable of the tale of horror you all have told me." Dumbledore said quietly, turning to face Harry with eyes filled with unshed tears "I'm so sorry… how you all must loathe me."

Ron snorted as if to say 'that's an understatement!', but was elbowed hard by Harry who glared at the red head.

"I wouldn't say that sir- "

But Ron wasn't having it and glared right back at Harry, laughing bitterly.

"Oh yes, we wouldn't say that at all" Ron laughed mockingly "Not after you sent Harry to live with those abusive muggles who beat, starved, and locked him in a closet! Not after every foolhardy mission you sent us on that almost always ended in destruction or death! Wasn't hunting Horcuxes just a lovely little walk in the park, guys?"

Hermione reached to lay her hand on Ron's fist, but he jerked away from her touch.

Hermione tried not to feel wounded at Ron's reaction, but it was difficult. Ron's temper had always been terrible, and she often forgot how uncontrollable it was….and how justified.

She felt as if she had a comrade in her hate, and did nothing more to stop Ron's fury.

Ron straighten his shoulders and glared down venomously at Dumbledore.

"Your own brother once said how funny it was that the people you supposedly cared about all ended up in a worse state than if you'd just left them alone. And I happen to agree! People get hurt carrying out your plans for 'the greater good'." Ron gritted though his teeth, standing over Dumbledore without a shred of fear.

Dumbledore flinched at the phrase he and Grindelwald once shared on their journey to power, but remained silent.

Hermione knew their professor was permitting Ron's anger, even though he could have stopped him. But, it appeared the older wizard understood Ron, and took it all with quiet contemplation.

Of course, with the monsters we've seen, Hermione thought, is it any wonder why none of us have any fear left?

What was Albus Dumbledore compared to watching a screaming First Year's limbs being ripped off by a giant? Or watching your professors being eaten alive by Acromantulas? Or watching a hundred Dementors surround children to feast upon?

That battle should have been his! He should have been the one to deal with the Horcruxes!

Because of Dumbledore they had been tortured for hours, so many had needlessly died, and Hogwarts…they're home and everyone who had ever meant anything to them was gone!

And what little remained of them? They were damaged deeper than anyone would ever know. It was like being trapped on an island and everywhere you looked, death and pain waited.

She didn't want to give in, but Hermione found it hard to fight the voice inside that told her to attack. They had seen things no human should ever see. Evil had left its mark on all of them.

Hermione couldn't help itch her forearm. The scar was thick and ugly; its roots buried deep beneath her skin.

"Well, Dumbledore" Ron curled his lips back into a sneered which would have made Snape proud "For once I understand your little phrase…for the greater good. And for the greater good we will do everything in our power to make sure our future does not come to pass. And we'll eliminate anyone who stands in our way."

And then Dumbledore looked up into the livid face of Ron Weasley…and smiled.

"Mister Weasley, you truly are a force to behold." Dumbledore said with a certain amount of awe "loyalty, valor, strength, fearlessness…and an admirable disregard for the rules. I fear any who stand in your way to achieving your goals."

Ron wasn't moved by his words, and remained cold in his anger.

"Its not as if we were given a choice, no thanks to you." Ron spat "and for that I'll never forgive you…but that doesn't mean we won't need your help. And frankly you owe us."

Dumbledore sat for a moment in deep contemplation, obviously considering the revelation that had been revealed.

"Knowing that Tom grows to become the most fearsome Dark Lord this world has ever seen, leaves me at a crossroads." The elder wizard thought out loud, stroking his ling auburn beard "Currently, the muggle world is fighting a world war. There's a charismatic leader in Germany at the moment that many have rallied behind."

"Hitler." Hermione offered.

"Who?" Ron asked, folding his arms.

"Adolf Hitler, Ronald. You honestly don't know who he was- is?" Hermione asked baffled.

"Hermione," Harry chimed in patently "He didn't grow up in the muggle world, remember?"

"But surely your father must have told you?" Hermione said shocked. "everyone knows Hitler."

Ron rolled his eyes.

"This from someone who didn't know about 'Babbity Rabbity and her Cackling Stump'?" Ron snorted, shaking his head.

"Anyway, he was-IS the leader of the Nazi party in Germany, and its Chancellor…. Well, he will be until next year that is." Hermione rattled off "He initiated World War II, invaded Poland, committed mass genocide which resulted in the slaughter of over 2 million Jews. Today…or rather in our future we refer to the atrocity as the Holocaust. He's considered to be one of the evillest men in history, and millions of his people loved him. He was an excellent public speaker, master manipulator, charismatic, and had a following which gave his power over Germany… he wanted- wants to conquer the world through total domination of his so called 'master race'"

"Yeah, that definitely sounds familiar." Ron commented, his eyes as big as saucers. "Sounds like the muggle equivalent to You-Know-Who."

"He is." Hermione nodded, narrowing her eyes at Dumbledore suspiciously "Professor, what do you mean your when you say you're at a crossroads?"

"Simply that, my dear." Dumbledore said gravely "I cannot grow to see another Dark Lord rise to power. I will permit you one year to ensure Tom Riddle's redemption. I believe in second chances, Merlin knows I've had such a need in my life…However, should he continue down his path of destruction, I will do what is necessary, as you put forth to me Mr. Weasley, for the greater good."

Ron glared at Dumbledore, and nodded in agreement.

Harry, on the other hand, was staring at Dumbledore as if seeing him for the first time.

"You're darker at this age." Harry commented without betraying his true emotions, but Hermione felt the hurt and anger course through his words. "or perhaps you've always been like this, and I've been too blind to see it."

"Whoever I will be, fifty years from now, I only hope he's a better man than I am today." Dumbledore sighed, rising to stand.

Ron snorted, rubbing his face in his hands. Harry reached over and began rubbing the knots out of Ron's taunt back, slowly easing the anger out of the red head.

"To stop Tom from becoming Lord Voldemort," Hermione began, deflating in her anger towards their professor. "Entails first sorting ourselves into Slytherin—"

"pardon my rude interruption, Miss Granger, but it is not you who does the sorting. The Sorting Hat must be used to filter each Hogwarts student into their appropriate house. How do you mean to bamboozle a magical artifact that's over 400 years old?" Dumbledore asked with a little less patience than his hundred year old counterpart had.

"We could always show it our memory of it being burned alive over Neville's head?" Ron offered with a happy sigh as Harry worked a particularly hard knot in his back.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Convincing the hat isn't the problem. It actually takes your choice into consideration when you ask it to." Harry explain off handily to the headmaster, as if it were obvious. "It did for me. I was meant to be in Slytherin, but I asked it to place me in Gryffindor. Remember headmaster- er professor, it is our choices. That show what we truly are far more than our abilities"

At these words Dumbledore froze, looking at Harry with a deep meaningful look "I've heard that phrase before. A long time ago when I was a boy… curious it should be spoken to me again. Even curiouser that this advice should come from the future. I'll have to remember it."

"You do that." Harry said with a knowing smile.

"Either way, we'll be sorted into Slytherin. There is no defense without offense, and if we mean to fight we need a good defense." Hermione walked around the room in circles, her hands clasped behind her back "We can't give up. There's always hope."

"No, we can't, Miss Granger." Dumbledore agreed approvingly "and as for your names. I think it wise that your last names be withheld. I may have someone who may be able to help with that. An old friend who understands the weight of secrets. Yes, you will need a trustworthy guardian yes-yes he and his wife should do nicely!"

Hermione perked up at the mention of a friend. She wondered who he could have been talking about. She watched as Professor Dumbledore stood by the fireplace and withdrew a small satchel of floo powder from his robes, throwing a handful if it into the fire.

"I'll be back!" he reassured eagerly over his shoulder, before shouting "Dior Château, Pyrenees Mountains- France!"

The flamed rose around Dumbledore in a column of green, and then he was gone.

"Mountains?" Harry let out an exhilarated laugh "Glad to see he's still mad."

Ron grunted, but was relatively calmer than before, leaning back into Harry's touch.

"Pyrenees Mountains?" Hermione stood, looking towards the ceiling in thoughtful contemplation.

She began to pace the room.

"Every time she does that its like I can see a lightbulb going off over her head." Harry whispered to Ron who looked confused.

"what's a lightbulb?"

As Harry opened his mouth to explain what exactly a lightbulb was, Hermione clapped her hands together and turned to face her best friends with a triumphant expression over her face.

"Beauxbaton!" Hermione gasped, jumping on the balls of her feet "of course, that's where the Beauxbaton Academy is located- in the Pyrenees Mountains!"

"How do you even know that?" Harry asked in amazement.

"How are you even surprised?" Ron shot back, tussling Harry's messy hair.

"But why would he need to go there?" Hermione bit her lower lip, ignoring the boys.

Then after what seemed like an hour of waiting, Harry called a house elf by ticking off oddball names.

"Blinky, Hobnob, Bilbo, Oddment, Horkey Porky, Fizzywib—"

"you called, Guest of Hogwarts?" a squat House Elf with tatty ears bowed.

"Er…. Fizzywib was it? Yes I'd like a pitcher of hot chocolate with extra marshmallows" Harry asked, receiving a harsh glare from Hermione "please."

The elf bowed again before disappearing with a POP!

"Chocolate?" Hermione continued glaring at her best friend "You ordered him about for something as trivial as chocolate?"

"here we go again." Ron snorted, raising his hands in surrender and stepped away from Harry.

"Its outrageous that you can still order them about, Harry! They're magically enslaved from the moment of birth, and live a life full of pain and degradation!" Hermione said hotly "Had Voldemort won I too might be magically enslaved to a pureblood family! Tell me Harry, what do you think the Malfoys would have done to me if that were the case? And if I refused to obey an order, perhaps I would be magically obligated to mutilate myself just as Dobby…"

Hemione bit down on her lip hard, turning away from the boys. She knew she was taking out her frustration on them. She knew it was wrong to explode over something as trivial as hot chocolate. And for her to even mention Dobby was a low blow.

Gods, Why can't I control myself?!

"I'm sorry." She said weakly, her back still turned "I shouldn't have…. I'm so sorry Harry."

Footsteps approached her. She felt a pair of arms slink around her waist and pull her back.

Harry rested his chin on her shoulder and sighed into her wavy hair.

"I wasn't thinking, Mione." He simply said

"I'm sorry." She whispered "I'm just overwhelmed. I didn't mean—"

"No, Mione. I was wrong. Dobby died a free elf, and my ordering about other elves without their freedom just insults his memory." Harry said quietly "I was wrong."

A 'POP' interrupted the tension in the room, and all three occupants turned towards Fizzywib.

The elf held the tray of chocolate and porcelain with shaky hands.

His eyes were downcast and his floppy ears drooping.

Harry immediately stepped forward to take the tray and set it aside. He knelt before elf, and smiling kindly.

The elf looked nervous and twisted his gnarly hands together.

"Thank you so much Fizzywib, this looks wonderful." Harry said gently "Might I invite you to sit and have a cup with us?"

At this point the Fizzywib looked at Harry as if he didn't understand him.

"Mister Fizzywib, would you please except our request?" Harry asked again "and if you would prefer not to, please also tell us so."

And then Fizzywib burst into very noisy tears. At last he managed to control himself and looked up at Harry, Ron, and Hermione in an expression of watery adoration.

"I…I've never been asked such a thing by a wizard." Fizzywib cried quietly "to be acknowledged…I—"

Hermione was overcome with emotion, and knelt beside Fizzywib, wrapping him in a hug.

"Please have a cup with us, Mister Fizzywib." She smiled at the elf.

"Yeah mate, take a seat!" Ron joined in motioning to an armchair beside him.

"Fizzywib doesn't know what to say!" the house elf trembled with happiness "sirs and miss are the so noble! So good!"

"Well, Mister Fizzywib the honor is ours." Harry said with a small bow.

And that was that. Harry insisted on serving everyone hot chocolate, making sure to pour Fizzywib the first cup.

After the house elf popped away, Hermione slid next to Harry, and laced her hand with his.

"You're wonderful, you know that?" she said, then planted a light kiss against his lips, brushing them gently.

Harry's cheeks flushed pink, but before he could open his mouth the fireplace erupted into a column of green flames.

She let go of Harry's hand and moved to stand.

Professor Dumbledore was the first to step out, followed by a middle aged wizard with large golden eyes. He wore his hair golden blonde hair long, which fell in waterfall of curls over his shoulders.

His wore robes looked as of they had been spun from pure gold, as did his gold wide brim, pointed hat. He wore gold rings on nearly every finger. The only thing which wasn't made of gold was a large ruby amulet which hung securely around his neck.

He was a sight to behold. Hermione was reminded of King Midas, and the way he moved seemed divine like a God in human form. He was beautiful, almost painfully so. Hermione felt she should turn away out of respect.

Either way, there was something eternal and otherworldly about him, and Hermione was certain that even his skin had a faint golden sheen to it.

This man… or whatever being he was seemed not only otherworldly, but also deathless.

Yet, despite his formidable appearance his eyes held a warm glow. His mouth curved upward into a mischievous smile, and for a moment he almost looked human.

"May I introduce my very good friend, the noted alchemist, philanthropist, opera lover, and cheese enthusiast- Nicholas Flamel!" Professor Dumbledore said brightly, as he dug into his robes in search for another Licorice Snap. "Nicholas, this is Ron, Harry, and Hermione!"

The trio found themselves unable to speak. Hermione had sucked in breath of both surprise and recognition.

Of course! She thought, focusing on the large ruby amulet, or what she assumed was an amulet.

It was The Sorcerers Stone, and here stood THE sorcerer at the untouched age of 617 years old!

Oh Merlin. I'm going to pass out.

Harry too eyed the stone before meeting Flamel's golden eyes.

Ron, on the other hand did not rise to greet the Alchemist, but instead buried his face in his hands and let out a low chuckle.

"Of course you are." He muttered.

The Alchemist smiled warmly and took a step forward. There was a mischievous sparkle behind his golden eyes that Hermione liked. It was youthful yet gentle, the kind of look her father once had when he looked at her.

Stop it.

This isn't the time or place for such melancholy thoughts.

Get a grip.

"Greetings, it's a pleasure to meet you. Young Albus here has of course told me your story, and the situation you now find yourselves in." Flamel said smoothly, yet kindly. "He tells me a Phoenix brought you to our time, am I correct?"

The Alchemist seemed to lean in as he asked the question.

To no ones surprise, Hermione was the first to step forward; respect and adoration glistened behind her wide hazel eyes.

Harry and Ron gave one another knowing looks of amusement. It was almost as funny as the time they seized Hermione's timetable in second year, and found Lockhart's lesson block outlined in pink little hearts.

"Mr. Flamel." Hermione greeted breathlessly "it's a pleasure to finally meet you. And yes, you've been told correct. It was a Phoenix that brought us to this time, although we're at a loss as to how. Phoenixes have never been known to travel back in time, and nothing of the sort has ever been documented."

The Alchemist appraised Hermione approvingly.

"You are absolutely correct. I'm impressed with your knowledge on the subject. You see I too have quite an obsession with Phoenixes. I've dedicated much of my life and existence to them. The phoenix is a part of me, I suppose you could say. What has happened is unprecedented." Nicholas rambled as excitedly as Hermione.

She noted the way the Alchemist fingered the ruby stone around his neck as he talked.

"but onto the matter at hand. I hear you three are in need of a guardian while attending Hogwarts. Shame you can't attend Beauxbaton Academy. I built a fountain in the center of the Academy, and spiked it a little something I created during the renaissance! Fascinating elixir which gives the drinker beauty and health! Best of all it tastes of Pule Cheese! I've had to replicate the intense flavor or Balkan Donkey milk for the elixir, but by Jove I did it!"

Professor Dumbledore was the only one to applaud the Alchemists who was clearly as mad as the wizard himself.

Ron made a face at the mention of Donkey milk. Harry's eyes narrowed.

"Wait. Why do we need a guardian? We're all of age." Harry asked bluntly, doing nothing this time to disguise his anger.

"This seems to trouble you Mister Potter." Dumbledore said seriously, keeping his eye fixed on Harry.

"That's because I've lost trust in your choice of guardians, Professor." Harry finished, his voice reduced to a whisper.

Dumbledore seemed to remember Ron's earlier rant, and nodded in sad understanding.

"As it stands, we can't very well have the school know of your origins." Dumbledore explained "Your story is simple. Until recently you three have been homeschooled by your adoptive father Nicholas Flamel, and his wife, Perenelle. While the three of you were in his lab, you came across one of his experiments which you became curious about. The end result was a happy accident which transported you to Hogwarts."

"And the Phoenix?" Hermione offered.

"For now, let us just say the Phoenix belongs to me." Nicholas smiled sadly for some reason. "After all…The name Flamel is old French for 'flame'"

Flame, Hermione mused, how appropriate.

"Wait, do you really expect anyone to believe our arrival was all part of an accident? I mean c'mon!" Ron said shaking his head "how thick do you think everyone is?"

"Oh honestly, Ronald!" Hermione sighed, pinching the space between her eyebrows "An Alchemist's work is extremely private! They work in absolute secret, or else anyone would be able to reproduce the Elixir of Life, and turn any metal to gold—"

"or any other object for that matter." Nicholas muttered under his breath to Dumbledore who snickered like a schoolboy.

"No self respecting academic or wizard for that matter would question an Alchemist on his work! Its just not done!"

Nicholas laughed as if remembering something extremely funny. At Dumbledore's questioning glance replied with a laugh—

"you know I once knew a muggle Alchemist who created Phosphorus back in 1669. Strange fellow. Wanted to recreate my work by turning liquid into gold!" Nicholas laughed even harder, making him appear more human. "later I come to find out the barmy old fellow boiled his own piss! Ha! I walked in on him reliving himself in a cylinder beaker! Nearly passed out from the fumes!"

It was then that Harry spit out his hot chocolate, coughing and choking as he laughed. Ron doubled over an armchair: red and gasping as he pounded his fist against the arm.

They spoke for what seemed like hours, and Hermione had to admit Nicholas Flamel was even better than she had imagined. Although, something in her gut made her feel as if something was off. Finally, the golden Alchemist finally stood to take his leave.

Flamel took Hermione's hand to shake, but frowned as they clasped hands.

Unexpectedly, he pulled her towards him hard, turning her palm over to investigate.

Hermione allowed him his curiosity, much to Harry and Ron's vocal objections.

"Hey!" Harry and Ron shouted, moving forward but stopped short seeing Hermione's sharp look.

"Your hands." Nicholas commented, knitting his brows "they're scarred."

"Yes," Hermione nodded "all three of us have similar scars on our hands."

"I know this jagged pattern." He said tracing her scars, then looked up to meet Hermione's eyes with short laugh "And if you're to be my children I must protest any future dragon riding without proper gloves and leathers!"

"Dragons?" Dumbledore asked lifting a bushy eyebrow.

"It's a long story." Hermione shook her head.

"We robbed Gringotts, and then escaped on the back of a fire-breathing dragon." Harry commented before taking a long drink from his hot chocolate "But only so we could find the fifth Horcrux, and destroy it. Not really a long story."

And then there was a clattering sound as Albus dropped his wand and choked violently on a Licorice Snap.

Nicholas Flamel nodded as if it were something he heard everyday.

"Sounds reasonable enough to me." Was his only comment on the matter. "Now if you three would please follow me, we have the matter of legalizing the guardianship! And I'm sure Perenelle will want to dote on you with rooms of your own and…ahem…proper attire."

He gave a pointed look at Ron, his transfigured clothes had begun to revert, leaving him clad in nothing but a pair of form fitting shorts.

Ron yelped snatching the pillowcase that had once been his doublet and his lower half under it.

"Sorry Ron," Harry smirked, looking not at all sorry "You know transfiguration isn't permanent."

Hermione glanced down to find herself standing in her nightgown which had changed back some time ago.

"That's Gamps Law of Elemental Transfiguration for you." Hermione sighed, ready to follow Nicholas into the floo.

"Great, I'm going to be meeting Mrs. Flamel in nothing but my skivies!"

"Believe me Mr. Weasley, at her age, there's little you can do that would shock her!"

.

Perenelle Flamel was a slender woman with hair as golden as her husbands. Her skin was also tinted with gold, as were her eyes.

But instead of gold robes Perenelle wore long white robes which were intricately embroidered with reds and orange hues. There must have been thousands of beads sewn into her loosely girdled robes. She was indeed an impressive figure.

She too had the appearance of someone who would never decay, an unendingness of eternity.

Both Nicholas and Perenelle stood above an ancient looking parchment. It was written in old French, which none of them could understand.

Hermione stood in the middle of Ron and Harry who watched on in fascination. She always thought blood magic was considered dark, but this seemed almost holy.

It was then that something caught her eye. Above the mantle, behind where Perenelle and Nicholas stood was a giant oil painting.

The magic behind the oil painting caused an I visible breeze to pass through the painted trees. The painted clouds formed and reformed into various consistencies. All together the scene appeared perfect.

It looked to have been painted during the renaissance and held an image of a young boy, perhaps sixteen or seventeen years old.

He looked familiar.

It couldn't have been Nicholas, although he did have the Alchemist's golden curls. The boy's eyes were downcast, and heavy with emotion, and Hermione found herself wanting the boy to look at her

But he did not. His sad eyes remained lowered.

Seated on his head was a floral crown of peonies, and white roses. The boy certainly looked like a God. If Cupid and Adonis had a love child, this boy would have surely been its product.

However, there was something about the painting that made Hermione feel as though it were VERY important, but she was at a loss.

She always had a keen eye which allowed her to look past extraneous details and perceive clearly that which others would overlook

The boy stood majestically in front of a wide landscape atop a hill, and wore silks of red and gold. Hermione thought the fabric flowed behind the boy resembled transparent wings.

And the boy in the painting was pointing to something…

Who is he? Hermione thought, but tore her eyes away from the painting to focus of the magic at hand.

"This is old magic." Perenelle said picking up a equally ancient dagger to slice each of her palms with. "Nicolas and I will willingly spill our blood- like so, into the parchment."

Both Nicholas and Perenelle made a fist and squeezed a few droplets of their blood, which was not red, but gold!

The parchment absorbed the blood and began to glow. Hermione couldn't look away and felt the magic in the room swell within her heart.

She had never felt anything so pure and good.

"As you can see this document can only be handled by both Nicholas and myself, and is absolute in its binding." She continued in a soft voice that vibrated with power "Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, and Harry Potter, step forward."

Hermione was shocked at how lustrous and excruciatingly beautiful Perenelle's voice became. The trio obeyed her command without question.

"Do you, Hermione Jean Granger, Ronald Billius Weasley, and Harry James Potter, accept and willingly take this dagger? Do you willingly make this sacrifice through blood and magic to become one with our lineage? Do you promise to stand with us in peace and never take up magic or arms against us? Do you willingly take our hands, and bind yourself as a Flamel, from now until your death?"

Hermione reached for the ancient dagger and slowly drew it

it across each of her palms.

"I do so willingly, on my magic and blood." She spoke firmly.

Ron forced the dagger across both palms without flinching. "I do so willingly, on my magic and blood."

Last was Harry who carefully and slowly sliced both palms, and said in a gentle voice "I do so willingly, on my magic and blood."

Hermione gave Harry a leveled look and nodded. She knew how uneasy he felt about blood rituals.

All of a sudden, the magic of their words caused the room to shake.

From out of the parchment came voices of Flamel ancestors, long dead. They were chanting and welcoming them! The sounds were like a choir of jubilant songs of celebration.

Hermione could have sworn she could hear the faint trill of a Phoenix, but it was only for a moment before it vanished.

Beside her Ron and Harry looked on in wide-eyed with wonder and awe.

The two immortals held their outstretched hands to the trio, who accepted. All five figures stood in a circle with their hands clasped, mortal blood mingling with ancient immortal blood.

Hermione could feel the life-force of their golden blood. And then they were bright and illuminated within their flushed skin.

The room became still, the voices ceased, and the magic dived into the parchment, binding them as one.

Hermione saw a list of names in gold. There were too many to count, and all of them glowing brightly.

Hermione Flamel

Ronald Flamel

Harry Flamel

Hermione smiled.

Above their names was Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel, connecting with theirs by a thin branch.

However, there was another name that stood out on the parchment.

A golden branch connected Ron, Harry, and herself as 'siblings'…and one other name as well.

Hermione's heart dropped into her stomach at the name glowing brightly in golden blood.

No, there was NO way it was possible…

Hermione's eyes found the renaissance portrait of the young man with golden hair above the mantle. She studied the painting for just a moment before she noticed what the young man was pointing to.

In the distance of the painting was a golden Phoenix, soaring through the sky… flying away from the boy with golden hair.

Hermione nearly gasped, as the boy looked up sharply to meet her eyes.

Golden eyes.

Slowly, he withdrew his pointed finger and pressed it to his lips, smiling secretly.

Nicholas Flamel's words echoed through her head from earlier—

'...you see I have quite an obsession with Phoenixes. I've dedicated much of my life and existence to them. The phoenix is a part of me, I suppose you could say…'

'For now, let us just say the Phoenix belongs to me.'

She looked down at the parchment and read the name curled in golden letters.

Faulques Flamel

It was Fawkes.


	4. The GOLDEN Trio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the trio wake to find a change- Ron and Harry dress Hermione- the Knights of Walpurgus are introduced- and the trio arrive at Hogwarts

The Cyclone of The Phoenix

Chapter 4

The Golden Trio

.

Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I can not live without my life! I can not live without my soul!"

― Emily Brontë

, Wuthering Heights

.

Perenelle gave each of them a magnificent room of their own.

This didn't matter of course.

As soon as they entered Hermione's room all three of them stumbled towards the bed and fell face down.

They were magically exhausted and barely made it up the winding staircases without falling.

Hermione felt a funny tingling sensation throughout her body, and wondered if the Harry or Ron felt the same.

Perenelle smiled knowingly as she extended the bed for them, and quietly turned out the lights of golden chandeliers .

Hermione lay in the center with Ron and Harry draped over either side of her. They nuzzled her neck lazily, leaving a trail of soft kisses down her jaw, neck, clavicles, and breasts.

They basked in the throes of ancient euphoric magic.

She leaned into their electric touch, and felt their magic vibrate on the surface of her skin.

Her eyes rolled back from the magic coursing through her. She could feel her magic humming, see it in waves of color as she closed her eyes. It was thick and rich and powerful.

She could feel her worn skin begin to tighten, her muscles felt stronger, and even her senses heightened.

She could smell Ron's earthy scent like freshly cut grass. She could taste the chocolate on Harry's tongue as he drew his tongue across her lips and bit them.

And their touch!

Oh Gods, she had never felt such a sensation! Just a simple touch of a finger across her skin sent her back arching off the bed!

The power was euphoric.

Their magic harmonized with one another. They felt the ancient blood course through their veins like liquid fire!

Hermione couldn't remember any more than this. One moment they were basking in the throes of their magical high, the next moment it was morning.

Hermione was the first to wake.

She looked down at herself and realized she was naked, not only that but both Ron and Harry were naked as well.

The room was still dark, and the sun had yet to rise over the mountains, but even in her sleepy state she knew something had happened.

This really needs to stop, she thought, feeling a sticky slickness between her legs.

Tiredly, she slid herself out of Ron and Harry's grasps. She could barely open her eyes and ended up stumbling across the room towards the bathroom.

When she entered she was so tired she walked past the mirror and into the most extravagant shower Hermione had ever seen- even to Hogwarts standards.

Everything was made of gold. Except marble the statues, which were white.

She sat beneath the hot shower, leaning against the wall when the door opened.

Ron and Harry had stumbled in just as she had to take a piss. When they noticed her half sleeping form through the steam, which filled the room, they naturally joined her.

They sat, leaning against one another in utter silence. If someone had walked in they might have been mistaken as still being asleep. Their eyes were closed beneath the scorching hot rain of the shower, half asleep.

The best part of all was that the hot water never ran out. They must have sat there for at least two hours before Hermione lifted her head.

She could feel her long hair pool over her hips and around her bottom.

Thick steam filled the room until the three of them were hidden in its comfortable embrace. Showers was one thing they would never take for granted again. When they were on the run; baths, food, water were just a few things

Slowly she moved to stand, detaching herself from the boys who fell against one another, still sleepy.

Hermione smiled down at her two best friends and shook her head.

Just figure it out already, you idiots.

She padded out of the shower and found plush towels by the sink. She dried herself slowly, taking care to twist the water out of her long hair.

When she re-entered her bedroom, she was able to give it a proper study and found, like the bathroom, her room was also decorated in gold and white marble.

Dior Château, indeed.

The floors shined against the sun which illuminated the room in bright light. The white silk drapes floated back and forth against the many floor length archways which lead to a spacious balcony.

She dropped her towel and stood in front of the open archways. The breeze felt good against her skin. She felt sensitive to every sensation and breathed in the deep woody scent of the mountains.

She felt strong and powerful.

"Mione?" a gentle voice whispered behind her in frightened disbelief.

Hermione turned and gasped at what she saw.

Ron and Harry stood side by side with skin as white and illuminated as moonlight. Ron's eyes were no longer blue, just as Harry's eyes no longer held any green.

They were gold.

The lines and scars from war, and being on the run for the last year had smoothed itself out. The dark circles from beneath their eyes had disappeared. Even their nails shined against the light in a pretty translucent color.

Their bodies no longer looked half-starved and half mad.

There was a transformation that happened that both perfected and refined their physical characteristics. Hermione couldn't look away.

Ron seemed taller, broader, and much more defined. Harry on the other hand looked more like an angel. There was a raw innocence in the way his face expressed emotion.

Had the blood ritual really changed them so much?

Ron's jaw muscles tightened. As he stared at Hermione. Harry looked as though he was reeling from lust at the sight of her.

"Bloody hell, Hermione." Ron sighed reverently.

And then Hermione looked down at her own hands. Her nails shined, and her skin was as white and luminous as moonlight. She was reminded of Veela skin, and flexed her hands experimentally, in front of her eyes.

Ron's mouth was still gaping as his eyes raked her naked body from head to toe. Harry seemed to have forgotten how to breath, and sucked in a tight breath.

Slowly she turned towards a wall length mirror near her boudoir and shrieked.

She stumbled back as fast as she could, falling hard onto the white marble floor. Ron and Harry ran towards her, but she held up a hand, stopping them in their tracks.

To her utter astonishment Hermione stared at her reflection. she couldn't believe what she saw.

Instead of a thin, frizzy haired girl with a worn face and sagging shoulders, Hermione saw a tender faced nymphet.

A nymphet with golden eyes, skin as white, and as illuminous as Chinese alabaster. Her wavy hair now hung in layers of thick curls; each tendril perfectly spiraling down her back in a cascade of ringlets, and shined against the morning light.

"Wha- Arry…Ron what- how?" Hermione brought her smooth hands to clutch her face, turning it from side to side.

Slowly she stood, her hair tumbling over her breasts, which held a perk curve.

In fact, her entire body had changed into a fine shape with exquisitely molded arms and breasts. Her hips curved, and her waist pinched tightly under her breasts.

Very slowly Ron and Harry, clad only in a towel around their trim waists, came to stand beside Hermione as she stood in front of the ornate golden mirror.

They stood shoulder to shoulder in their bare feet, as they merely continued to gaze at themselves.

Her scars that Greyback had given her were gone. The whip marks from Lucius had faded as well.

Hopefully, Hermione looked down at her forearm hoping to be free of that hateful word…

But it was not to be.

Mudblood.

The word stood out as angry and red as ever. She looked up and found Harry stroking his lightning-shape scar. He too wore a look of disappointment, then perked up leaning into his reflection without squinting.

"My eyes." Harry gasped, blinking rapidly.

"yeah mate, our eyes are gold too." Ron said obviously.

"No, I mean I can see." Harry squeezed his eyes shut, then reopened them.

Hermione gasped, noticing for the first time that Harry wasn't wearing his round rimmed glasses.

Tears filled his eyes as he looked back and forth between Hermione and Ron.

"Is this what it's like? Is this how you see things all the time?" his soft voice quivered.

Ron smirked down at Harry, placing a hand on the back of his neck.

"And do you like what you see?" he asked in a low sensual voice.

Harry's eyes widened, he quickly looked down at his feet, and gave a small nod to Ron's satisfaction.

"Good."

Ron's tentacle scars still marred his body, but he didn't seem to care.

At the moment, he was not looking at himself, but at both Harry and Hermione.

There was a flash of lust and heat in his stare, and suddenly Hermione wasn't so sure that he wanted to let her go, and just be friends.

She felt uneasy, and suddenly very, VERY naked.

He gave Harry the same look who instantly blushed.

Hermione was the first to turn away. She didn't want to look anymore. She didn't feel like herself, nor did she feel secure enough in her own skin to face her best friends.

Funny enough she had more confidence when she had been plain and scarred. She had been torn from the inside out, just as they had been.

And now?

She still felt as torn as ever, but in a slightly prettier body. No, there was nothing 'slightly' about it. She was astonishing, and it made her feel at a loss.

She had always been bookish and boorish. She missed her unremarkable body, her knobby knees, and frizzy hair. Hermione wrapped her hands around her middle and bowed her head. It was as if someone had forced her to walk naked through the streets, while reveling her innermost secrets.

"Hermione, love are you okay?" Ron asked, the lustful look vanished and was replaced with genuine concern.

"I feel wonderful, I look even better…and yet it's wrong. Like someone's peeled back my skin." Hermione said, then noticed a white high collared gown on her bed.

When did that get there?

Another two white robes lay bedside it along with matching white trousers, riding boots, and undergarments for all of them.

Hermione's shoes were white Victorian boots with at least a dozen small buttons along the side.

Quickly, she grabbed her wand to dry her hair, and reached for her silk undergarments.

She felt strange rolling up her stockings and fastening them to a guarder belt. She had never worn underwear like this before.

She could feel the boys watching her and took care not to look their way as they dressed. Still, the blush rose in her cheeks.

She dressed quickly, and pulled her hair half up in a ribbon. She wasn't sure of the appropriate fashion for this time, and didn't really care. Her hair, even in its transformed state was still a handful to deal with.,

Once they were done Hermione still couldn't look up to meet their eyes. She wasn't ready to see them again in all their perfect glory. It was too much.

It was unnatural.

"I think….I think you should sleep in your own rooms tonight." Hermione said so quietly she was certain they hadn't heard her, but they did.

"What?" Ron snapped, taking a step towards her.

Hermione flinched but held her ground.

"We need to stop doing this." She said in a slightly stronger voice, but still didn't have the courage to look up at them.

She focused on tying a silk sash around her waist, refusing to look up to meet their eyes.

"Is this about last night?" Harry asked gently.

She could have hugged him for his soft natured concern, but she didn't.

"Stop doing what, exactly?" Ron asked with more force in his voice. Hermione bit her lip and moved to turn away, but Ron was quicker.

"You know what." She answered, biting her lower lip.

He grabbed her by her shoulders and turned her sharply to face him. She didn't have a choice and looked up into his angry face.

"We belong to each other, Hermione- all three of us! What are you saying, you want to leave us?" Ron demanded, tightening his grip "After everything—"

"That's not what I mean Ron!" Hermione protested pushing him away, but was unsuccessful "and besides didn't you tell me before that you didn't love me that way? Wasn't it you who said we were better as friends?! So, what am I to you? What am I to either of you, dammit!"

Harry stepped forward, his golden eyes wide and pleading. "Mione, please."

"What the hell do you mean? You're a part of us- you, me, Harry! We belong to one another, so don't you dare turn your back on us! No one can understand us, NO ONE! They didn't live though what we have, they don't know!" Ron shouted, shaking her so roughly Hermione's hair began to fall over her eyes "We're stuck in the past with evil incarnate, we need each other, Goddamit!"

Harry stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on Ron's forearm so that he was facing him.

"We do need each other, Ron. But you need to let her go, right now." Harry said in a commanding tone.

Ron stared down at Hermione for a moment longer before letting her go.

He stumbled back.

"There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other." Ron said heavily "Once upon a time, it might have been a troll in the girl's toilets… we've fought greater monsters since then, and we'll be fighting another one soon. Hermione, I do love you, and…. Harry. I love both of you. I can't lose either of you. Don't you understand that? You once said you were with us no matter what, do you still mean that?"

Hermione stepped away to sit at the end of her bed, clutching her white hands.

Harry, still standing between Ron and Hermione, looked up desperately.,

"I love you both- you know I do." Hermione said with a quiver in her voice "but I need space. I need a fucking library! I need solitude and silence! I feel like I've lost my senses, and I need to rationalize everything that's happened. Gods, all I'm asking for is space, Ronald! That's all! Your room is right next door and Harry's is across from ours. There's just so much that's happened, and I need time to think and collect my thoughts."

"Fine. Collect your damn thoughts. But just so you know I'm taking Harry to my room tonight and locking the door! No girls allowed!" Ron hissed, grabbing Harry by his upper arm and dragging him out of her room. "C'mon Harry, let's go find some food."

Harry threw Hermione a sympathetic smile over his shoulder, and lifted them in a shrug as he left. The tail end of his green robes followed him out, leaving Hermione alone with her thoughts.

Damn Ron for always blowing up over nothing! So, what if I want space? We're NOT a couple, we never really were.

Yes, the three of them were lovers…. In a sense.

There wasn't any other decent word for it.

But in the end, Hermione knew Ron wasn't in love with her. He didn't look at her the way he did with Harry. He didn't blush at her touch like he did with Harry. When Harry spoke to Ron, she could tell the red head saw no one else but him.

Harry and Ron.

Ron and Harry.

It had always been them, from the very start. They had a bond Hermione could never have, and in a way, she wanted to step away before they could hurt her any more.

One day she would wake up and Harry and Ron would be so in love there wouldn't be any room left for her. It was only a matter of time, and they would be gone.

She didn't have a place with them. She would only end up tearing them apart.

If only they could figure it out already, and stop putting her between them.

Hermione always felt like the third wheel with them.

And now?

She didn't know. The way Ron spoke to her and gripped her was an entirely different side of him. He was more possessive, angrier.

She lay back in her bed and shut her eyes. She could smell their scents in her sheets and inhaled deeply.

She did love them.

She just wasn't in love.

Such things only existed in fairy tales, and she stopped believing in happy endings long ago.

Suddenly, Hermione opened her eyes and looked up into the canopy of her bed. The painting of the blonde boy flashed in her mind…

Fawkes.

She had forgotten to talk to Ron and Harry about it, but then quickly decided to get more information about the revelation before going to the boys about it.

She remembered seeing the golden branch connecting Faulques Flamel to them, and the painting that called out for her to discover its secrets.

At the end of the day it didn't matter if it was a Basilisk or a painted boy, Hermione could always figure out a secret if she put her keen and penetrating mind to it.

And she planned to.

.

When Hermione finally ventured out of her room, she was stunned. She must have been completely out of it the night before not to have appreciated the sheer artistry of Dior Château, her new home.

Home…how long had it been since she had a home? Home was with her parents, but that was gone. Home was Hogwarts, but that too had been destroyed. Home was that warm space between Harry and Ron, and soon that would be gone too.

Looking around the golden palace, Hermione wondered what home truly was. She certainly never imagined it looking like this.

The Flamel's had named it correctly. Hermione had never seen such excess of wealth, not even with the Malfoys. The Château was more than a home, it was El Dorado.

Through the halls of mirrors and gold, Hermione explored the many rooms and artifacts.

In one room Hermione was shocked to find it occupied by nothing but statues of gold. It creeped her out ,and she decided to leave instead of exploring it further.

There was a room which held fifty self-stirring gold cauldrons. She was careful not to inhale deeply, and could almost hear Snape taking away points in the back of her mind.

She explored room after room, each one more luxurious than the last. Hermione noted that their rooms were on the fifth floor. The second floor had a ballroom as spacious as the Great Hall at Hogwarts.

Chandeliers hung from a ceiling which bowed with flying buttresses and columns. Opulent stained-glass windows, twenty feet high, lined the entire hall. Her heels clicked, echoing through the lonely silence. She could almost see the men in powdered wigs and frock coats dancing with women in pastel gowns. She could almost hear the laughter that must have once filled the hall. Hermione wondered if it would ever host such splendid life again.

Finally, after over an hour exploring she entered a room, which held nothing but a tall golden mirror. Slowly, she stepped into the room, her footsteps echoing on the white marble.

She shut the door behind her, and curiously stepped towards the mirror.

Engraved in a font reminiscent of old English texts read:

erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi

Almost instantly Hermione gave a chuckle.

So this is the mirror Harry found his First Year, Hermione thought, excited to finally see it in person. She found the magical artifact fascinating, and read everything she could on the subject. Apparently, the mirror had been made as something of a party favor. The wizard who created it intended to have fun with his guests, but instead did the exact, opposite.

Those who gazed into it became obsessed, some even went mad. It was known to lead men to waste their lives in front of it. The Mirror of Desire, indeed. It either brought tears of happiness or tears of sorrow to those who stood before it.

Curiously Hermione tool a step back and centered herself properly in front of the enchanted mirror.

She was always too curious for her own good.

For a moment she only saw herself in her new magnificent form; gold eyes, ringlets of perfect curls, smooth white skin, pink supple lips, soft limbs and curves.

And then the image changed.

Her hair became flatter, messier. Her eyes became dull and her skin scarred. She looked plain and ordinary, but also someone who had gone through hell and back.

And then her mother and father came into view.

Instantly, Hermione jerked around, as if expecting to see her parents standing behind her. She knew it was foolish, and impossible, but half of her hoped that maybe she would see them.

She couldn't help the hot tears that welled in her eyes. Her throat constricted forming a lump she couldn't swallow down.

She looked back to face the mirror again and saw something that made her sob uncontrollably.

For the first time in ages her parents were looking at her… and they recognized her. Her mother covered her mouth with her hand, and her father was smiling down at her with tears in his eyes.

We love you, they mouthed repeatedly.

"I love you too mum-dad…I want to go home." She pressed herself against the glass and cried.

Through the mirror image she could see the two gold scars on her palms, like the stigmata of Christ. Her hands curled into fists.

The realization of what she had done washed over her.

She was a Flamel now, in blood and bond. Hermione felt the ancient blood of the Flamel's inside her as it adjusted to her magic.

She was no longer a Granger, nor did her biological parents even exist.

The tears refused to stop, and couldn't help but press her cheek against the glass, as if desperately trying to force herself through.

Suddenly a warm hand came to rest on her shoulders, pulling her away. Hermione's head snapped up to find the golden Alchemist standing behind her.

Nicholas Flamel, stood looking down at Hermione with such tender understanding that she couldn't help folding into his arms. She wanted to be held just as her father once held her. She wanted to open her eyes and see her father's smile.

"I miss him. I miss mum too." She sobbed like a child, burying her head into the folds of the Alchemist's robes.

"I understand." He muttered into her curls "I have someone I miss too."

Hermione pulled away, remembering the portrait of the boy with the golden hair and crown of flowers. The one that stood above the fireplace, and held a long white finger pointing to a phoenix.

"Faulques," she said, watching the Alchemist's unchanging expression "The boy in the painting?"

The Alchemist considered Hermione and smiled sadly.

"You have a keen eye, child." He said sadly "and yes, that's exactly who I mean. Before I created the Elixir of Life, I married Perenelle and we both had a child. Such a beautiful boy…hair just like mine and a face as lovely as his mothers. He was out only child… but he's gone now."

"Gone?" Hermione questioned.

"Yes." Nicholas said shortly, releasing her from his fatherly embrace. "Losing my only child was the one wound I have yet to heal from… well, I suppose that's different, now that I suddenly find myself with three more children."

"I'm not a child." Hermione said, "None of us are."

Nicholas laughed softly, but without any humor.

"Everyone is a child to me." He said with a small amount of resentment "the whole world is filled with children. At 617 years old I too have seen more than I ever dreamed or desired to. I've lost everyone, except Perenelle. I've seen civilizations rise and fall, I've watched every friend I've ever loved pass from this world, I've been in battle and seen the horrors of war- both wizard and muggle alike… so you see my daughter, to me everyone is a child."

Daughter

"and your son?"

"Gone." Nicholas said simply "And that is all I wish to say on the matter."

Hermione wished to find out more, but saw decided against it when she saw the forlorn expression in his golden eyes.

"and what about…us?" Hermione asked, fearful of the answer she might receive.

"Oh, don't worry, one day the three of you will be gone too. You haven't been made immortal, don't worry." Nicholas smiled sadly "However, since the blood that flows through my veins also flows though yours, there are a few alterations, as you are probably aware of."

Hermione looked down at her pearly white hands and nodded.

"Your appearance has perfected itself, and will continue to do so for as long as you live. You will age slower, so much so that by time you reach seventy years old, you will still have the youthful body of a twenty-year-old. Disease will not touch you, but death certainly can." Nicholas rattled off.

"and the killing curse?"

"Nothing can stop a killing curse, there is no way to block it. If I was hit with it, not even my Elixir could save me." The Alchemist admitted bitterly "but anything else I can withstand. You, on the other hand ,are not so lucky. Which is why, as your father, if I may call myself so, I plan to train each of you. You will train five times a week while at Hogwarts, under my guidance."

"You'll be at Hogwarts?"

"I will apparate there every evening, then return to the Chateau. I don't like to leave Perenelle for longer than I must. It's not our way to be apart from one another."

Hermione smiled, wiping her face of tears. She found Nicholas to be a hopeless romantic, and quite the protective guardian…father.

"But for now, let us leave this room. I had planned on donating the mirror to Hogwarts for ages, if only for further study into its magic." Nicholas commented, taking Hermione's arm and folding it into his elbow.

They walked through the Chateau until they finally came to another set of massive doors.

"I think you might enjoy this room. I overhead the boys at breakfast saying how desperately you needed a library." Nicholas laughed as he opened the double doors, and held out his arms. "Welcome, my daughter, to the Flamel library."

Hermione's knees nearly buckled. She caught herself on the doorframe, staring into what looked like a cathedral of books. Light shinned though glass stained windows; painting the entire library in color and light. There must have been hundreds of thousands of books on EVERY subject and in EVERY language.

Her feet carried her inside, and that's exactly where she stayed for the remainder of the day.

Nicholas sat with her, reaching and writing at one of the many extravagant desks. He ordered his house elf to bring Hermione her meals, which made her feel uneasy yet also grateful. She was starving, and couldn't remember the last time she had a proper meal.

"Here take this." Nicholas offered Hermione a vial of silver liquid.

Hermione looked up to see the Alchemist grinning down at her.

"what is it?" She asked, taking the vial and opening the stopper to smell the liquid.

"You'll be attending Hogwarts under the guise of being my daughter. Therefore, you will be expected to speak and understand French. It will look suspicious if you don't. This little elixir I created not only allows you to understand a language, but also speak it fluently. Perenelle has more- than -likely given young Ron and Harry their vials." Nicholas explained, shrugging as if such an elixir was something he created everyday…which was probably the case.

Hermione began to realize just how extraordinary Nicholas Flamel actually was.

She knew he had worked with Dumbledore to help create a cure for Dragon Pox, as well as the Twelve Uses Of Dragons Blood, and countless books on healing and potions. Even his wife Perenelle wrote several herbology books on the matter. There were books dated back to the 14th century which were still being printed, and used at St. Mungo's Training Academy, and mentioned as a Reference in Moste Potent Potions. Such unbelievable accomplishments couldn't be matched.

And what the public knew was only the tip of the iceburg.

"Incredible." Hermione breathed, but still didn't reach for the potion. She didn't know Nicholas well enough to trust him. For the past year that had been her motto- 'trust no one'. It kept her and the boys alive up until this point and she wasn't about to abandon it now.

Seeing Hermiones reluctance, Nicholas took the vial and tipped half its contents into his mouth. After a few moments he gave it to Hermione, who smelled it again and experimentally put a single drop on her tongue.

It tasted like honeydew.

And then Nicholas began to speak to her in French. And she could understand him.

She knew it was another language, and yet she found herself smiling as his words became clear and understandable.

"Once you take the elixir, you'll always understand the language. It won't ever fade away, so you needn't fear waking up one morning without a clue how to speak it. It will be as natural to you as breathing."

"Brilliant!" Hermione laughed as she took the rest of the contents into her mouth and swallowed.

She didn't feel any different, but she knew she spoke another language!

"Now, next week you'll arrive at school and before then it will be my mission to groom each of you into respectable Flamel's…not that anyone knows much about us to begin with." Nicholas planned, rubbing his gold hands together.

He really did look like King Midas, and wondered if he could turn an object into gold by simply touching it. Hermione didn't ask, feeling it would be rude, but she did wonder.

"So we're at an advantage!" he clapped, as he pulled out a block of cheese from his pocket and nibbled on the corner "Pureblood etiquette, memorization of our lineage, and of course shopping!"

"For school robes?"

Nicholas waved a dismissive hand "Yes, yes. We'll purchase school robes, although whoever designed them obviously didn't take into account that they're entirely boring. What I mean is clothes for when you are not attending classes. You'll need gowns of lace and the finest Persian fashion for young witches we can find! Boots, hats, gloves, handkerchiefs, bloomers, shoes, perfumes- my dear you shall have it all! No child of mine will want for anything, and everyone in that school of yours will know it! Those proud pureblood brats think their blood is so thick, but what can be thicker than gold?"

Nicholas was rattling on and on.

As Hermione listened, she knew this was a man she could easily love as a father. He was doting, and adored talking with Hermione about her dreams and ambitions. He wanted to know her, and asked question after question, no matter how silly or strange.

Later that evening Nicholas took Hermione for a walk in the gardens. He handpicked yellow buttercups, and white chrysanthemums then bundled them with a silk ribbon and gave them to Hermione.

"I've never had a daughter," He said thoughtfully yet sincerely as they walked back into the Chateau "and I know I'm not the father you once knew. I can never be him…but, I would very much like to protect and cherish you as if you were my own. From this moment on I would like to be a father to you, if this is agreeable to you."

Hermione felt her throat tighten. His words held no ulterior motive, it was such a simple request, yet Nicolas looked as if her answer was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Hermione didn't know what to say, so instead she looked down at the flowers he handpicked fort her and nodded with a smile.

"I'd like that."

.

"I don't think this is really necessary." Harry said uncomfortably to Perenelle and Nicholas, as they pulled him through the twentieth tailor shop that day.

Behind him, Ron looked to be having the time of his life. They had been shopping all day in Paris and the Flamel's were completely engrossed with spoiling each of them beyond anything they expected.

Of course, Ron had always worn his brothers hand me downs, and was over the moon with a chance to finally own new clothes. He threw back his head and laughed at Harry's discomfort, pushing him through every shop with sheer joy. For the first time in his life Ron looked the part of the noble pureblood he was.

"frock coats, doublets, wand holsters, dragon hide boots- a dozen pair for each!" Perenelle listed as the shop keepers quill wrote feverishly against the enchanted parchment floating behind her. "The boys will need trousers, breeches, waistcoats, winter cloaks, and tunics- don't forget their undergarments too!"

"And what colors and textures will you be needing Madam Flamel?" The shopkeeper asked with a curtsy.

"White and gold of course." said Perenelle with a hint of humor in her tone.

Her white blond hair was pulled into an elegant French twist, with pearls hanging from her hair and ears.

Hermione watched Perenelle and was reminded of Narcissa Malfoy, but unlike Perenelle, Narcissa was haughty, cold and not afraid to be cruel. Perenelle Flamel was everything a Pureblood lady ought to be, but with tenderness and warmth that Hermione had never seen in anyone but Molly Weasley. Perhaps that's why Ron had become so attached to her.

Although Perenelle didn't; cook, clean, knit, or even look the part of a mother, she was as gentle and loving as one.

Even Nicholas was staring at his wife as if new life was breathed into her. Hermione thought she must have missed her son dearly, but didn't ever bring it up. It had nearly been a week since they bonded, and each day that passed seemed to bring them closer together.

Ron and Harry slept in their own rooms after the third day, but occasionally took naps together. Hermione was the only one who didn't join. Ron was still slightly cold towards her, but she could tell he desperately wanted to hold her.

"But I have more clothes than I can possibly wear in an entire year!" Harry protested as the tailor draped white silk, chiffon, muslin, and velvet fabric over his shoulders.

"My child, you must remember the family you represent. You must never forget your place in this world." Perenelle scolded gently "when the world sees you, they see a legacy. You mustn't give anyone reason to look down upon you, ever. And I promise you, if you let they- they will."

Eventually Harry thanked the Flamels, and took their gifts graciously.

When it came time for Hermione to be fitted, the boys insisted on sitting in and helping pick out the fabrics and choose the cuts.

"She needs clothes that will show off her figure," Harry said, as Ron nodded in agreement "Something modest, yet seductive."

"Her neck is especially long and slender, so maybe something that flatters her. Let's see how she looks in an off the shoulder gown!" Rom smiled at Hermione who crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.

Yep, this was his way of getting back at her.

What a bloody git.

"Gowns! Yes!" Harry leaned forward "She'll need some day frocks, cocktail dressed, evening gowns, and a few of those…oh…what do you call them Ron?"

"Baby doll dresses! The ones with the puffed sleeves, and ribbon that ties around the waist!" Ron snapped his fingers, giving Harry a thumbs up "Good choice mate! And could we get the buttons on those to be pearls?"

"she's a size 5 in American…so a size 36 is the equivalent here, right?" Harry asked Nicholas and Perenelle who nodded as they laughed good naturedly.

"Well it seems as though your brothers can handle this one!" Nicholas clapped, taking his wife's hand in his "If you need us we'll be at the bakery across the way!"

"Wait! Don't leave!" Hermione begged her new parents.

She did NOT want Harry and Ron dressing her! Although their taste in clothes was lovely, she didn't trust them not to make her appear like some sort of fairy princess, locked in an ivory tower.

"Don't worry dear! The shop is connected to our account, so when you're done the charges will already be withdrawn." Perenelle reassured as she turned to leave.

"Also, the hairdresser is across the street so when you've finished here you boys might look into getting a more refined cut." Nicholas offered over his shoulder before walking out the shop door.

Hermione defeated as the boys turned back to face her with a wicked look in their eyes.

"Now!" Ron clapped merrily, turning to the seamstress "She's going to need undergarments, bras, and stockings in all the lace and silk we can get! Perhaps she could she model a few?"

"RONALD!" Hermione shouted, causing the seamstress to laugh along with the boys.

She thought her 'brothers' were trying to tease her!

Oh if you only knew, Madam…if you only knew.

After what seemed like an hour of the boys picking out every item of clothing she would wear, Hermione finally understood what Harry had felt. He gave her a sympathetic look as they entered the salon.

Ron wanted a quaffed cut which was shorter on the sides but longer on top. It had an elegant pompadour look about it and made Ron look more elegant that Hermione had ever seen him. It was like he was an entirely new person.

It didn't help the fact that nearly all the female staff had fallen for the boys. Hermione stood off to the side as the girls flirted and laughed with them.

Harry's messy hair had been through numerous washes and treatments until it became tamed and silky. It was a little longer than his ears in a choppy cut that made him look devil-may-care, yet still delicate. His black locks were no longer sticking out at all ends.

He looked like prince charming.

"And what look may we help you achieve today, Mademoiselle?" A tall chic stylist asked, guiding Hermione towards the chair Ron had just occupied.

The boys stood nervously behind her as her tapped her finger against her cheek.

Then a thought hit her, and she smiled sinisterly.

"Could we cut it all off? Maybe to my ears?" Hermione asked happily "It would definitely be easier for me to get ready in the morning, and I wouldn't have to bother with all those curls."

The stylist looked as if someone had died, and both Ron and Harry shouted—

"Over my dead body!"

She wanted to laugh, but kept her face entirely serious.

"You bloody will NOT cut your hair off!" Ron shouted in a panic, turning to the stylist "I swear to Merlin if you het near her head with those sheers, I'll hex you stupid!"

"Please Monsieur Flamel, I wouldn't even if you paid me a great sum!" The Stylist protested, stepping back from the chair "Hair such as this- it's a work of art! I've never in all my years seen hair like this, I would never cut it off, as Madam asks!"

"It's MY HAIR!" Hermione shouted right back, loving how angry she was making the boys.

"Oh Hermione, please not your hair!" Harry cried gripping the sides of his face. "anything but that!"

"You can give her a inch trim- that's it!" Ron snapped, turning Hermione around in the chair to face him "you understand? A TRIM!"

Finally, Hermione couldn't hold it in anymore, and laughed. She laughed so hard that she started crying, and doubled over, slapping her thighs.

"Oh, that was too good!" Hermione laughed hysterically "the look on your faces! Oh, you should see it! HA!"

Ron straitened and gritted his teeth, Harry on the other hand laughed along with Hermione until everyone was in stitches. Ron eventually cracked an annoyed smile and shook his head.

"Also, if I really wanted to cut my hair, there wouldn't be anything you could do to stop me." Hermione said then stuck out her tongue.

"I'm going to get you back for that." He promised to Hermione's dismay.

"But you already got me in the tailor shop!"

"Guess you should've thought of that before scaring me senseless." Ron tugged at her chin affectionately

.

Later that night Hermione knocked on Harry's door and opened it to find both boys lounging on Harry's bed, eating chocolate frogs.

"Hey." She said quietly, stepping into the room.

She was wearing a white lace chemise, with puffed sleeves and white knitted socks. She looked like a doll, and felt stupid, but Ron and harry only smiled in delight. She became painfully conscious of her breasts through the thin fabric, and the swoop neck of her chemise did nothing to cover her clavicles.

"Wanna chocolate?" Harry offered, looking comfortable with his head in Ron's lap.

Hermione nodded and took the offered chocolate. She sat on the edge of the bed, nibbling the squirming treat.

"Sorry." She finally said in a quiet voice "About the other morning I mean."

Ron didn't look up, but she could tell he was listening.

"I just...this body is strange to me. I don't feel like myself. And I know you both haven't ever tried to push me away, but I like maybe…maybe I'm getting in the way." She said softly.

Harry sat up and put an arm over her shoulder, protectively.

"up until five months ago, we didn't know anything but constant fear." Harry said, brushing one of her curls behind her ear "I hated that the both of you followed me. Enough people had already died because of my decisions. Hundreds were killed in a war, and thousands of lives were destroyed. I didn't want to destroy yours anymore than I already had. And then we began to run out of food…we were so hungry…Do you remember chasing that rabbit?"

Hermione and Ron nodded. A haunted look crossed their eyes as they thought of the rabbit.

"We chased that bloody thing for ages. And then when we caught it…well, none of us had ever killed an animal to eat it before. We didn't know how to skin it, and we just sat there petting it for ages." Harry said as tears spilled over his eyes. "God…you were so thin Hermione. I can still remember counting your ribs while you slept. I counted the ridges on your spine too. And I realized what I had done to you- both of you. And then you took the rabbit away. We thought you would let it go, but an hour later you came back with a small pot of soup. You told us you already ate your portion…. I-I was so hungry- we both were that we didn't question you! Only you didn't eat at all. You saved that small portion of soup for us, and went hungry. I remember hearing you cry in the middle of the night outside our tent…"

"Harry please—"

"You had eaten bark off a tree!" He cried bitterly, looking as if he deeply hated himself "You were on your hand and knees throwing it all back up! I watched you rip up roots from the dirt and eat them…but you couldn't keep it down."

"I don't want to talk about that, please harry." Hermione's voice broke, stunned that he vividly remembered that horrible time. "It doesn't matter."

"You thought of us! You always thought of us, even if it cost you your own life!" Harry shouted, leaping to his feet.

It was uncharacteristic of Harry to get so angry, and she couldn't help but shift closer to Ron.

"You. Fed. Us." He said as if he didn't believe what he was saying "You bled for us in Malfoy Manor! We sat in that dungeon…we couldn't see what they were doing to you, but we heard everything! I'll never forgive myself for what Greyback did to you, I'll never forgive myself for not giving you my soup instead of shoveling it down my throat like a glutton! Never! Hermione, you are worth a hundred of me. You're greater than any pureblood I've ever known. Your brave and beautiful and when I look at you here- in that white dress…Mione, this is the way it should be. You've always been our princess. You deserve all of it, and I promise you I'll never abandon you, or see that your hungry – not ever again!"

Hermione's face crumpled. She began to softly cry into her palms, shaking her head.

"But you…you and Ron. I don't belong…I'm not—"

It was Ron's turn to pull her back, all anger forgotten as he pulled her into his lap, and cradled her to his chest.

"After everything you've done for us, do you really think we're that thick, as to leave you?" Ron said quietly, stroking her hair "Forget what I said before, and listen to what I'm saying now. We love you Hermione. We belong to each other."

Harry crawled towards them, pulling Hermione's hair off the back of her neck. He gently laid a trail of kisses down her neck and shoulders.

"You know…" Harry said gently, now calmer "No one will ever understand us. But we belong together, just like this. And now that we've been bonded as siblings, the taboo is even greater, but I don't give a damn."

"Me neither." Ron voiced though Hermione's thick curls "Let the rest of the world fuck off for all I care."

"Language." Hermione whispered, still gripping the fabric of his chest.

They sat together in silence, slowly stretching themselves out over Harry's bed. They stared up into the ornate gold canopy side by side. There was so much gold. Everywhere you looked the Chateau shinned. In the early glow of the morning light Dior Chateau appeared almost heavenly. And it was their home.

"Do you know when I was little, and Aunt Petunia locked me in the cupboard, I would read from this book." Harry explained in a hushed voice "It was a muggle book, and it was the only thing in there I could read. In it there was a man named Abraham and he had a wife named Sarah. They were half-siblings, both children of someone called…Terah. They loved each other and spent their whole lives together…and in the end, they had a child… their legacy populated the world. And their union was blessed by God himself."

A breeze floated through the night and swept through Harrys room. The curtains around Harry's bed danced around them, making a protective cocoon of fabric surround them.

"Maybe…we can be blessed too." Harry whispered, sliding his hand across the bed to lay over Hermione's stomach. Ron reached over to lay his hand over Harry's and sighed happily into her shoulder.

"I like the sound of that." Ron breathed, tightening his grip on Harry's hand.

Hermione looked down at the perfectly sculpted white hands curled over her midsection, protectively. She wanted to tell them it was impossible. That they belonged to each other, but she knew they would have none of it…and a part of her wanted it too.

However, another part of her knew, deep down, that it would never work. But she shut her eyes and refused to acknowledge the truth. For now, it was enough to lay between them; safe and cared for.

.

Tom strode through the double doors of the Great Hall with a bounce in his step, and a pleasant smile on his lips.

"Good evening Tom!" a third year Hufflepuff chirped, waving merrily in his direction.

A Fifth year Ravenclaw patted his back as she passed, "Hey Tom, thanks for the tutoring session last Friday! I passed Professor Slughorn's Antidote exam with an O!"

"See you in Transfiguration Tom! I have the notes I borrowed from you! Thanks so much!" a Gryffindor Seventh year called from across the hall.

"um Tom?" a small voice cooed from his side.

Tom turned to find Nebula Malfoy tugging at the hem of his robes with her tiny hand. She did a small curtsy and tilted her head back to meet his eyes.

"Nebula, is everything alright?" Tom asked in a concerned brotherly voice.

Nebula shook her head then glanced behind Tom to make sure her brother, Abraxas, wasn't trying to eavesdrop.

"What is it, sweetheart?" he asked delicately "are those Gryffindor girls picking on you again?

Nebula shook her blonde head.

"No, it's not that." She whispered, looking down at her feet "It's just… I think I'm blacking out again. I don't know why it keeps happening, but I have a bad feeling every time I wake up."

"Have you told Abraxas?" Tom asked with little concern.

"Yes, but he says if it keeps happening that he's going to write to father!" she said with a flicker if fear in her grey eyes "I'm scared Tom. You believe me, right?"

"of course, I do. Let's talk more about it after supper. Just you, me, some apple cider and biscuits by the fire." Tom smiled warmly at the blonde girl, straightening out the green bow in her hair "You know you're like a sister to me, I'm here whenever you need to talk. Perhaps we can figure this out together, yes?"

Nebula smiled, making her appear more like a nine-year-old than a twelve-year-old.

"Thank you, Tom." She whispered with a small smile before bouncing past him towards the end of the Slytherin table to sit with her friends.

When he turned to sit Abraxas was watching him closely, but said nothing. The platinum blonde boy sat with his back strait as if he had a pole shoved up his ass.

He hated the posh pureblood. He hated all of them

I'm going to make your children's children grovel at my feet one day, Tom thought as he nodded politely to the pureblood.

"So, what's news on that dolly and her boy toys?" Rostislav Lestrange pounced forward, snatching an apple from the center in the table

Tom loaded his plate with steamed vegetables and steak, not bothering to glance at the long haired Slytherin.

"Good evening Ros." Tom said shortly.

The boy was always giddily exuberant and felt a constant excitement to the point of disorientation.

Abraxas, in all his stiff collared glory, found the pureblood distasteful, but tolerated him if only for his blood.

"Do use a napkin, Lestrange." Abraxas commented as he speared his steak with his cutlery dagger. "as always, your lack of manner and gentlemanly approach leave me at a loss for words."

"I truly am a wizard above my peers!" Rostislav Lestrange let get out a giddy laugh as he took a savage bit out of the red skinned apple, exposing the white flesh within.

"Out of the way Lestrange!" Ursa Avery snapped venomously as he shoved the mad Slytherin down the bench to sit next to Tom.

"But I want to know!" Ros pouted petulantly, his mouth full of apple, pointing to Tom "Tom got to watch them for an entire week! It's not fair! Oh! Hey Tom, did you get a glimpse of that dolly in her knickers? I bet you anything she's a white lace kind of dolly! You know the kind with the small white ribbon over her—"

Ursa Avery growled, grabbing his cutlery dagger beneath the table and pressed it painfully against Leatrange's ribs.

"Do not speak so carelessly to our Lord, Rostislav." Avery's voice was as quiet and gentle as a lambs, but a lamb he certainly was not.

A sharp flash of anger tightened in Toms chest at Avery's slip of the tongue and Leatrange's antics.

He would deal with them later.

Abraxas noted the slurp and cleared his throat, earning a filthy glare from Avery.

"Hey Ursa, Is that a knife in my side or are you just happy to see me?" Rostislav Lestange jokes earning a knick from Avery's blade.

In the six years he had known the Slytherins nothing much had changed with their personalities.

Abraxas had been groomed since birth and refined as his ancestry demanded him to be. He was cold and distant. A perfect ice prince.

He reminded Tom of a character from a book he read as a child. The book was called The Snow Queen, and in it a little boy by the name of Kai had his heart pierced with splinters from the Snow Queen. He became cruel and cold, and his sweet innocent heart turned to ice. In the story he followed the Snow Queen to her palace where he faithfully served her.

Yes, Abraxas was certainly his little, cold hearted Kai.

Tom had never even seen the blonde smile, or express any extreme emotion besides snobbish indifference.

Ursa Avery was another matter altogether. He made no effort to hide his cruelty, and reveled in torturing mudbloods.

A few years ago, he nearly had the entire school convinced he was the Heir of Slytherin, which of course amused Tom to no end.

Ursa even held a toast in the common room to every Mudblood who was petrified. He threw a party that dumpy Ravenclaw, Myrtle Elizabeth Warren, was killed.

If you were not a pureblood, you had no name in Ursa's book. You were Mudblood or animal.

Abraxas felt the same in regard to muggleborns, but at least he had the decency to keep his tongue in cheek.

And then there was Rostislav Lestrange, more commonly called Ros.

Impish fool.

The Slytherin boy wore his hair long and wild, like the clinically insane bastard he was. His eyes held enough amusement that he nearly always looked as if he were about to laugh hysterically.

The pureblood, if you could give him such a title, was completely psychotic.

Inbreeding will do that, Tom thought with a certain amount of disgust.

Apparently, his lady mother and lord father Lestrange were half siblings.

Disgusting as these purebloods were, Tom couldn't deny their importance. They were the spinning cogs in the clockwork of their world. So, he tolerated them to the point where they believed that he too was a pureblood from an obscure line.

But back to the fool.

Ros wasn't unattractive as you might think an inbred ought to be, he was devilishly handsome. had a high-pitched laugh that hurt Toms ears, and a wide grin that yearned to tear and devour.

Apparently, madness not only ran in the Black family, but the Leatrange's line as well.

Ah, and here comes the little Lord himself.

Tom looked up as Orion Black strode through the Great hall looking tired, irritable, yet still formidable to the point where Slytherin boys bowed as they passed and Slytherin girls dropped into a curtsy.

His father Arcturus Black had recently passed, leaving the family estate to him. He was now at the age of 16, Lord Black.

Orion's younger sister Lucretia sat by Nebula Malfoy, looking pale and wretched. Apparently, she loved her father, a concept Tom knew nothing about.

Orion said nothing as he sat next to Malfoy, across from Tom. He merely nodded, as was his custom and began serving himself a salad with extra cherry tomatoes.

Abraxas gave Orion an approving look, and seemed to have developed more respect for the boy since becoming a Lord in the eyes of society.

Orion hadn't the trademark Black hair, but dirty blonde curls which he kept slightly longer than Toms. It was neatly combed to the side and finely tapered around his ears and neck.

The boy wore a bowtie instead of a long tie with his stiff dress shirt, and robes looking equally as expensive as Malfoy's.

Poor, quiet little Orion, losing his daddy and inheriting an entire kingdom all in one week.

What a tragic little pureblood.

How terrible it must be to become one of the most wealthy and powerful individuals in the Wizarding World.

Tom noticed the bluish circles beneath Orion's eyes and sneered.

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black indeed.

"All right Ursa!" Lestrange giggled at the knife pressed against his ribs "I'll drop it, just keep it in your pants, yeah?"

"Finish your apple in silence then." Ursa snapped, sliding his knife into the sleeve of his robes.

Even his followers bored Tom these days.

He frowned. Maybe he just needed some…release.

His eyes moved down to table to where Nebula Malfoy sat. The girl lifted her head and gave Tom a polite smile.

Tom couldn't help give a small noticeable smirk.

"Will you be attending Dueling Club this Wednesday, Tom?" Abraxas asked politely.

"I'm not sure it'll be worth it" Tom said, smiling at the blonde "I haven't exactly had much of a challenge for the past four years."

"You know Tom's never lost a duel, Abraxas. Why ever would he keep attending meetings if there's nothing in it for him?" Orion asked with a bored expression on his face.

"Haven't you heard?" Abraxas asked in a patronizing tone "Apparently Professor Gilford will be teaching us to combine dueling with blood sports this year. And only to Seventh years."

Ros finished his apple happily, licking his fingers one by one, then smiled brightly.

"I've already had training with weapons!" Ros boasted reaching for another apple, but getting swatted by Abraxas sternly.

"And what's your weapon of choice?" The aristocratic blonde asked, narrowing his piercing eyes.

"Kahnjali double edge dagger is my favorite! Something like the dirk Avery keeps in his pants and likes to poke me with!" Lestrange laughed savagely. "but if I'm honest, I'm better at inflicting more damage with a sturdy trauma or cleaving weapon! Gimmie a pretty little Morning Star any day! So shiny!"

"You all sound like a bunch of Muggles." Tom sneered, setting down his goblet hard.

The conversation stopped, and Abraxas inclined his proud head for Tom to continue.

"Are you wizards, or aren't you? Perhaps a wand is all that separates you from the filth of this world, but not me." Tom said smoothly and strangely beautiful, the others leaned in hanging onto his every word "The Dáinsleif was King Högni's magic sword that gave wounds that never healed and could not be unsheathed without killing a man. Freyr's sword fought on its own and only served when it was in its masters hand. Anyone else who tried to wield it were instantly burned. Ichaival was a bow possessed by Odin, and when he released one arrow, ten more would follow from its shaft. Or what of Mjölnir the hammer of Thor? Was there ever a weapon as indestructible and loyal as his? Magic is as powerful as we believe it can be. A sword is just a sword in the hands of a muggle, but with enough force he could sever your head from your neck with a single blow."

He had their attention. They hung off his every alluring word with a worshipful look behind their eyes.

"Your magic is greater than you allow it to be, why can't any of you see that? Any muggle can strike you down with a sword…they do it with bullets all the time. Do you know how many bullets they can fire off a minuet? Hundreds. How many spells do you think you could strike at an opponent in a minuet?...We wouldn't stand a chance if they discovered us. And why should we be the ones cowering? Do you know there's a muggle war going on at this very moment? They call it a World War, and the weapons they possess are far more terrible than you can ever imagine" Toms dangerous voice dropped down to a whisper.

"Four years ago, they evacuated muggle London…at least, they evacuated those they deemed worthy enough. Orphans were another matter. I sat in that orphanage under sandbags and broken desks, cowering from the hell that rained down; bombs that demolished entire buildings, tanks that crushed everything in its path, bullets that penetrated flesh and stone, fire and chemical that fell from the sky; blinding, and melting the skin off your bones."

Tom thought of the Blitz, and the apocalyptic destruction he crawled out from. He had never been so afraid in his life. He remembered shaking as the other children screamed. Tom was twelve, but felt like a 5-year-old. He could never forget the whistling before the explosions. He remembered praying like the matrons taught him.

And he remembered no one answering his prayers.

Under those explosions he knew it was all a lie.

As Tom spoke he observed his followers.

Abraxas wore a cold hateful expression. Ursa looked murderous and ready to kill. Ros leaned forward, his eyes wide with both sadistic fascination and curiosity. Orion's lips thinned into a hard line of anger.

"For our world to leave a pureblood in the care of muggles is the ultimate disgrace." Orion hissed through his thin lips "Our society disgraces the name of Wizard with it muggle tolerance. But what of our own? If we don't act soon, our world will burn too."

Tom didn't bother placing a silencing charm around them, and relished the looks of fear from nearby students at what they overheard.

Fear was powerful. It could break a wizard, or make them stronger; more dangerous.

"Orion, your noble family has gone through such tragedy with the loss of your Lord father. But he hasn't left you without provision! You must use your seat on the Wizemgot, and vote representing the Black family to further our ideals."

Tom turned to each of them, studying them with what appeared to be respect.

"Each pureblood has an obligation to use their power to preserve our world." Toms words were "As I told you, your magic is greater than you allow it to be. So, use it well."

His words penetrated them, shook then, burned them.

They broke off and began speaking in hushed tones to one another. Tom listened to their conversation with glee as he sipped his goblet.

Towards the teachers table he noticed Headmaster Dippet rise gracefully from his center seat. He raised a single hand for silence

Instantly the hall quieted, save for a few insolent Gryffindor boys who shrank from the Headmasters pointed look.

"The very best of evenings to you all! As we finish our meals, and head into a most excellent dessert, we have the honor of first acknowledging the arrival of three new students." The Headmaster announced causing excited whispers to break out, even among the Slytherin table.

"it is our pleasure to welcome a trio whose illustrious family has not only contributed to wizarding and pureblood society and tradition, but also to nearly all areas of magic. You may remember them as our friends who quite literally fell from the sky into our laps! So, without further ado, please stand with me as we all make our way towards the courtyard for their arrival."

The was a resounding laugh, and Tom could practically cut through all the excitement filling the hall.

The chatter grew as they stood, leaving their dishes.

Lestrange bounced excitedly and let out a shrill laugh. He walked ahead of Ursa, Abraxas, Orion, and Tom, laughing like a maniac.

Once they filled into the courtyard, everyone was instructed to stand side by side, leaving a giant spacious hole in the center.

Meanwhile, Tom was studying the clear evening sky which was filled with hundreds of stars. The moon was full and round and bright.

As Tom continued to stare he noticed something small fly over the moon. A shadow cast over the grounds, and then suddenly everyone else noticed too.

The school fell utterly silent. All eyes looked up into the sky, which seemed to glow brighter.

And then the sound, which resembled a herd or horses whined in the far distance.

"Ah, here they come now!" said Professor Dumbledore cheerful, pointing to what was seemed to be a flock of white birds in the distance.

But it wasn't.

Tom looked up with the rest of the school. Instantly he knew those were no birds.

They were herd of twelve elephantine- palomino- Abraxan- winged- horses….and they were pulling a giant gold chariot behind them.

The herd of Pegasus had a mesmerizing effect on the students, who began to clap and cheer.

The golden carriage rocked and swooped through the sky until it landed in the center of the courtyard.

The pure white Pegasus reared back, expanding their magnificent wings and flapped them threateningly.

The entire school gasped and held their breath.

Tom stepped forward so that he stood at the front of the crowd, getting as close as possible to the creatures.

And then the carriage door opened.

The first to exit was a towering, hulking figure with hair as red as a flame.

He wore white dress robes, which fit him like a glove, showing off his sculpted body. The sleeves clung to his arms and ended past his wrist. The quality and craftmanship that went into his clothes must have cost a fortune.

Beside him Abraxas Malfoy looked on in awe filled approval, and even admiration.

Tom recognized the muscular boy…what was his name? Ah yes, Ron.

He surveyed the courtyard, as if considering whether or not to get back into the carriage and fly away. Instead, he turned to look over his shoulder and nod.

He held out a luminous white hand, offering it to the occupants inside the golden carriage.

Toms eyes widened as he noticed the red heads eyes were gold, and not just any gold either; a sparkling enchanted golden color.

A fine white hand crossed the threshold and taking the offered hand.

Tom watched the second boy, the one he recognized as Harry, emerge. The boy was just as wispy and soft as he remembered, his hair blacker than ever, and features just as commanding.

He too wore white robes with a regal cape that hung over his shoulders, connected with a golden clasp. His boots came over his knees, and on his hands, were white gloves. A golden ring sat on his middle finger, matching the one Ron wore.

However, he too looked slightly different. His eyes were no longer green, and like his brother, they shinned gold. His posture was straighter and even his gestures held a fluid grace that surpassed even Abraxas. Tom studied their supple white skin with desire and interest.

He wanted to peel it off and examine it.

It was strange, the boy was just as slender and delicate as the moment he had met him…but now he looked like damn God.

Tom felt a pang of hatred in his belly.

There's only one God, and I am he!

Around the courtyard the Hogwarts girls whispered feverishly. They cupped their cheeks and mouths as they blushed stupidly. They had fallen for their beautiful faces just as they had with Tom.

Watching someone else being fawned over was a new experience.

He didn't like it.

The pang of hatred began to grow in his belly.

Even the males had looked at the Flamel boys with admiration and approval.

Harry looked around until he spotted Tom. His gold eyes locked onto Tom's blue eyes, for a long moment before he smiled.

Tom felt a jolt at the warmth radiating from the black-haired boy.

Harry lifted a hand to wave at Tom who inclined his head back in acknowledgement. Other around Tom looked at him with envy that he was associated with the Flamel's.

Even his Slytherin followers looked back and forth between Harry and Tom, obviously impressed.

And then both boys turned towards the carriage door, each extending a hand and each receiving a small hand in return.

Now it was the boys turn to blush.

Even Tom had to force himself not to allow his jaw to drop open at the sight of the third sister.

Her-my-own-eeee

Hermione…

She spilled out of the carriage in layers of thin white silk. She wore small slippers on her dainty feet which were embroidered gold with a two-inch heel.

Her sleeves were sheer and belled out dramatically like a renaissance princess. And like her brothers, her golden eyes reflected the moonlight that reminded Tom of a wild feline.

Her hair hung in thick ringlets and braids which had strings of pearls ornamented throughout it. It was long and reached his hips, which swayed exquisitely as she walked.

And unfamiliar feeling replaced his previous feeling of anger. It burned just as tight in his chest, but it was not anger.

A wicked leer spread across Tom's face before he could stop himself.

No, it certainly wasn't anger.

A/N— Your reviews are everything! If you appreciated this trashy fic, leave me comment!

Next time! Hermione, Ron, and Harry are sorted (we all know where) and begin their seventh year with Tom!


	5. Giving In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boys get settled in-   
> the trio have a threesome in the Forbidden Forest-  
> Tom corners Hermione-  
>  And Hermione has a dream

A/N— the way I write Ron will NOT be stupid/treacherous/weak spare! You'll get no Ron bashing from me! My Ron loves Harry and Hermione, he's strong, protective, a bit too possessive, and angry (yeah, he has his faults). But at the end of the day he's JUST as essential to the group as Harry and Hermione!

Also, who else is FRICKIN PUMPED that Nicholas Flamel will be in the next Fantastic Beasts movie?! ME! Although, I doubt he'll be anything like the way I write him. But I'm still excited!

This chapter is another long one- 35 pages omg. I need help.

*PLEASE RESPECT THE RATING* This story is rated M for a reason. If you are underage, please LEAVE and come back in a few years.

Through The Cyclone of The Pheonix

Chapter 5

Giving In

'I've already told you: the only way to a woman's heart is along the path of torment. I know none other as sure.'

-Marquise de Sade-

.

Flashback

"So, we won't be on the Hogwarts Express?" Hermione asked, as she and Perenelle brushed the silver mane of one of the Pegasus.

They were in the stables, on the east side of the Flamel grounds.

Hermione had stumbled across the golden stable by chance while she was exploring the grounds. It was massive, and she could understand why, considering the beasts they housed.

Twelve pure white stallions, twice the size of a normal horse, with wings so white they almost looked silver.

Next to the unicorn, the Winged Abraxan was the purest beasts Hermione had ever seen.

"A train? Oh no, my darling! When I was a girl, a winged Abraxan was the only fashionable way to make a grand entrance!" Perenelle sighed happily "Oh, those were the days! Despite the plague, and The Hundred Years War, we witches and wizards actually had wondrous flings!... I mean, when we evaded being burned at the stake or inquisitions. Oh, but those balls we held at court were simply divine! And as time passed Salons were established!"

Hermione smiled fondly at the sophisticate that Perenelle was.

So, this is my new mother? Hermione thought, she's beautiful, well read, elegant, worldly…she's like a modern-day Madame de Pompadour.

"Back in my time," Hermione smiled as she brushed the Abraxan Pegasus "Hogwarts hosted the Triwizard Tournament. Beauxbaton Academy arrived in a carriage pulled by these creatures, it was beautiful."

"Really? I'm not certain I would ever allow anyone outside of the immediate Flamel family to handle them, much less borrow them. I can't imagine being parted from my boys!" Perenelle laughed, playfully nuzzling her Pegasus. "Oh no, I couldn't ever part from them! You see my father gave them to me on my tenth birthday. He was a doting, and gentle man. Such gifts, even for a pureblood daughter, was considered quite extravagant! I was the talk of every elite family for the next hundred years!"

Hermione was taken aback. Sometimes she forgot how old Perenelle was…would the world even remember her in a hundred years? Probably not.

"I've read many history books where the Pegasus were used as a magical war horse. In 'Divine Creatures of Ancient Lore' by Parcae Dieme, there was a Wizard by the name Bellerophon, who captured a Pegasus. He rode him into battle to defeat the monster 'Chimera'- a sibling of Cerberus. However, because he caught the Pegasus, and didn't respect him as an equal, Bellerophon fell off as Pegasus as they flew towards ." Hermione remembered as she rattled off excitedly "There were thousands of Pegasus used during times of war and conflict, especially in ancient Scandinavian and Greek cultures!"

Perenelle looked up in surprise, and nodded. She obviously approved of Hermione being so well read.

Hermione could feel a bond forming between them.

"Before I was born the Pegasus was an endangered magical beast, but you're correct. They were used in battle more than any other magical creature. They were bred for battle, and have great loyalty to the bloodline they belong to. Which is why they're so fond of you!" Perenelle said happily "They're known to be temperamental. Stubborn boys even have an attachment to a specific type of single malt whiskey! After over 600 years, they're still just demanding babes."

"I've read that Winged Abraxan's have an amazingly long lifespan." Hermione nodded, then reflected "These creatures aren't common to see in my time. What became of them?"

"No one knows. As I said, they were endangered before I was born." Said Perenelle, then turned to gaze at her creatures as if they were her own children "You see… I own the very last of the Abraxan Pegasus."

Hermione stopped her grooming and took a slow step back from the beast as if it were made of glass.

"the…last?" her voice was hushed, and suddenly full of awe.

Perenelle looked up and smiled sadly.

"They are." Perenelle said quietly as if afraid her Pegasus would hear and become sad "If there was a female among them, I would have bred them despite them being siblings. Blood as pure and magical as a Winged Abraxan's should live on. On some level, as a witch from an ancient line…I can sympathize. In my time it wasn't unusual for first cousins to marry, or even half siblings! It was a different time, I suppose, but it was also a time of greater magic. Seeing them gives me both comfort and joy, but also fills me with great sorrow. If only there was just one female among them... They're my prized jewels in a world of decay and evil. They've been by my side longer than Nicholas has… if only there was just one female."

Hermione felt a strange feeling as Perenelle spoke. She felt, for just one fleeting second, that she was speaking to her.

"a union among siblings? Surely there would've been more squibs and children with deformities produced?" Hermione asked, "And magical blood has nothing to do with ability."

"I know I must sound prejudice and ancient, but I'm afraid what I say is true." Perenelle sighed, moving to set down the brush and sit next to Hermione on a haystack. "You see my dear, magic in its purest form, such has mine -is nearly gone from this world. In this modern time, we need wands and incantations to draw the magic from our core. That wasn't how it once was. As you see, neither Nicholas nor myself own a wand."

"I didn't actually." Hermione said feeling very stupid.

"That's because our magic flows naturally through our body without a spoil of muggle or muggleborn blood in our veins …oh dear, spoil is the wrong word. I don't mean we shouldn't love who we love. There's no greater sin than slighting a romance offered to you...However—"

The blonde immortal paused, picking up a straw of hay.

"Magic such as this, should never completely die out."

The straw of hay sat on her palm, then began to rise into the air. Perenelle blinked lazily and the straw of hay transfigured itself into a miniature Abraxan with tiny feathers. The Abraxan was only a figurine, and then with another lazy blink the figurine cane to life and began flying around their heads playfully.

"Could you teach me how to do that?"

"I will indeed, my child. There was a time when any child could have done such magic without a wand. You didn't need to study a wand movement or practice an incantation out loud. No, all you needed to do was channel your core, and it magic came as easily as breathing. I will teach you and your brothers these secrets."

Hermione thought back. She had been known as the brightest witch of her age, but she also worked incredibly hard to earn such a title. Magic came to Perenelle with just a thought. Magic had never come as easy as breathing to Hermione. It took discipline and work and countless hours of study.

Perhaps there was some merit to having pureblood…

"Hermione, I don't mean to make you feel badly! Anyone with even a drop of magical blood belongs in our world as a citizen, do you understand?" Perenelle put her arm around Hermione's shoulder and drew her into a soft motherly embrace "but as you now have my blood running through your veins I mean to teach you how to wield its power. This is my second chance at being able to further my bloodline. I cannot do so for my beloved beasts, but magic still has a chance to survive through you…and your brothers."

Hermione didn't know what to say to that. She felt both loved and awkward at the same time. She didn't want to think about Ron or Harry in that way, especially with her adoptive mother practically giving her blessing in the matter.

And in so many words, Perenelle did.

But Hermione also thought back to Perenelle's words.

'this is my second chance…'

The image of the Phoenix seized her thoughts, but Hermione saw the sadness in her adoptive mother's eyes ,and remained silent on the matter.

Then out if the blue, Perenelle snapped out of her silence and leap to her feet gracefully.

"Let me properly introduce them to you," Perenelle insisted brightly, pulling Hermione to her feet with more strength than she expected "I just realized I hadn't."

Hermione followed Perenelle, carrying sugar cubes in her pocket, and fished for a handful.

"This spritely devil is Cronus, behind him is my shy little Rhe. The one sulking in the corner is Phorcys- he tends to get jealous of his brothers If I don't give him enough attention. Gaia is the one who is sleeping with his head under a stack of hay, Pontus is the one butting Uran on his hind side. Nyx is my beauty with the black eyes, Hesiod with the birthmark of a star under his belly. There's also my temperamental Stxy. Be sure to approach him slowly, he tends to attack anyone who isn't me. If you need to, just prick your finger and let him smell your blood, he'll know you are my daughter. He knows my blood and will protect it. Then we also have the triplets; Acheon, Charon, and Pelion."

Hermione was still looking at Styx, who seemed to be contemplating whether or not to trample her. She bit a small part of her lip and breathed out slowly.

The giant war stallion instantly calmed, and took a tentative step towards her.

Hermione smiled when Styx butted his nose into her palm. She looked up to see Perenelle smiling lovingly at them.

"I can't wait for your debut as a Flamel into society! You have the makings of a great witch, worthy of the name!" Perenelle sighed happily "Hogwarts won't know what hit them! Now, let me show you how to properly care for them. They are now as much yours as they are mine!"

Hermione wondered how anyone could be as bright and sweet as Perenelle. She knew the woman had experienced much suffering, and yet she was still bright. Losing her only child must have been torture.

She could see Perenelle had imprinted her motherly love onto the Pegasus…and she suspected she would also do the same to Harry, Ron, and her.

Hermione pulled out the Pegasus brush and began removing the silver hair to throw away, when Perenelle stopped her.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, darling." She said gently "Pegasus hair has magical properties that can make one feel effervescent and jubilant!"

"A hair from a flying war horse can make someone feel…happy?"

"among other things." Perenelle said with a giggle.

Hermione could have sworn she saw the woman blush.

Flashback End

Harry and Ron flanked Hermione on either side of her, as they strode through the Great Hall.

The students filter through behind them; speechless, frightened yet utterly enthralled, but mostly excited.

Tom stayed behind leaning against a pillar in the back of the hall. He pulled his hood over himself as he watched the spectacle; smiling from beneath the shadow of his hood, his blue eyes gleaming. The trio had been at Hogwarts for no less than ten minutes, and now had more followers than Tom. He was seething with rage, although none noticed.

Hate

Hate

Hate

The golden trio walked with their heads held high. Their cloaks trailed behind them, flapping by their ankles.

And then they were standing before a rickety wooden stool that looked out of place and offensive.

Sitting on it was a worn out, thread bare old hat.

Albus Dumbledore stood before the trio with a warm smile and twinkle in his eye. We wore pastel pink robes and a tall pointed cap on his head.

To Hermione's defense she did not laugh, but she couldn't help smiling broadly. Harry bowed his head to hide his own smile, while Ron only rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Welcome to Hogwarts my friends!" Dumbledore greeted golden trio with a sparkle behind his half-moon glasses. "Before we befuddle ourselves with dessert, I would like to begin with the sorting of the Houses!"

The hall filled with polite applause as Tom pulled back his hood and slowly walked towards the Slytherin table.

Orion and Abraxas both looked at Tom with a masked expression, but they knew their Lord was considering the three figures. His blue eyes bore hungrily into the trio, without blinking.

Orion and Abraxas gave one another a pointed look, then turned to watch the sorting. Tom walked behind the pair and sat between them without saying a word

"Ronald Billius Flamel!" Dumbledore called as the muscular red head stepped forward.

Girls from the Gryffindor table huddled together in groups babbling excitedly, hoping their house would be the one to receive him.

Ron stepped forward with long powerful strides and sat himself on the stool which creaked loudly. He was formidable looking with a threatening glare. He crossed his arms over his chest as the hat was sat upon his head and covered his eyes.

Merlins bloody beard!—

'Let's cut the crap. Put me in Slytherin so we can finish this.' Ron mentally snapped.

But you don't belong there! You don't even want to be sorted into Slytherin. No, I'm sorry but, that isn't the house for you.

Listen here, this year is going to suck. I get it. I don't exactly want to be a snake, but I sure as hell won't be separated from Harry or Hermione. So, get on with it. I have enough to worry about.

I'm sorry. But this isn't how it works.

Fine. I didn't want to have to show you this, but since you already know I'm from the future, let me show you yours.

Ron threw up the memory of Lord Voldemort spelling the Sorting Hat around Neville Longbottom's head. And then the hat caught fire and began to scream with a blood curdling shriek. Neville's head thrashed violently. The flap that held the sorting hats mouth stretched so far open, as it screamed, that it began ripping itself in two.

And then from the top of Ron head, in the middle of the Great Hall which was silent…the Hat screamed.

"GET ME OFF HIM! SLYTHERIN-SLYTHERIN! FOR MERLIN'S SAKE- SLYTHERIN! GET ME OFF!"

Dumbledore leapt forward, his face white as chalk as Ron hopped happily off the stool. Instead of walking towards the Slytherin table, he walked down the steps towards Harry and gave him a thumbs up.

"Ronald! You horrible wretch!" Hermione flared, slapping Ron on the arm and earning a wicked chuckle.

"It was being stubborn." He shrugged not at all fazed by her anger.

The hall was shaken at what they had just witnessed. No one spoke, and everyone had the same look of horror…except for a few Slytherins who clapped politely.

"Harry James Flamel." Dumbledore called in a weaker voice, unable to conceive of the horror Ronald Flamel had just put the Sorting at through.

Harry was next. As he sat on the stool and sighed. He crossed his legs and folded his hands neatly in his lap.

The hat was still shaking as it was laid on Harry's head.

'I'm so, so sorry. Ron was wrong for that' Harry whispered gently in his head 'but we really need to be sorted into Slythe—'

'You're different'. The hat interrupted bitterly 'you've always belonged to Slytherin house. You were just too blind and selfish to see it. Maybe if you heeded my words the first time around, innocent people could have been spared… There might not even have been a war if you listened to me, you stupid boy—

"SLYTHERIN!"

Harry stood up. His face was ashened and drawn. He had a haunted look in his eye, but said nothing as he moved to stand by Ron. Hermione eyed him and wondered what the hat would have to say to her.

Toms penetrating blue eyes noticed the expression on Harry's face, but his attention was now on Hermione.

"Hermione Jean Flamel!"

She was beautiful in that white gown, like a child going for its first communion. The candlelight from the ceiling reflected on her supple skin, and Tom couldn't help but study her white throat.

Her throat is long and slender, her breasts are gorgeous… and yet she appears like a radiant doll.

He could see a very, very faint blue vein beneath her skin. He wondered, in cruel fascination, what other beautiful things she hid beneath it.

She ascended the steps, then very carefully sat herself on the stool, so that it wouldn't creak.

Everyone in the hall looked on in envy and admiration. Every breath was held, and Tom found himself holding his as well.

Hermione took a deep breath as the hat was set on her head.

Sorry, about Ron. He can be horrible.

He'll regret not heeding my warning. He does not belong in Slytherin.

None of us do. But we need—

You want to save your future. You want to destroy Lord Voldemort by saving Tom Riddle. But I can see a darkness in you and a power that will decide whether or not you fail your mission. There is more than one life in the balance, and your choices will decide the future.

Darkness? What power? What other life?

You have the power to surpass the Dark Lord in every way. But whether that will be for the light or the dark I cannot say…and as for the other life. You'll find out soon enough.

Then tell me what to do! Tell me now!

"SLYTHERIN!"

Slytherin house was now in an uproar of applause. They had all three Flamel siblings, leaving the other three houses to deflate with disappointment.

Tom noticed some of the other boys in all four houses looking up at Hermione with heated lust.

He felt cold and murderous.

He didn't understand what he was feeling exactly, but he knew he didn't like it.

Like two princes, Harry and Ronald walked up the steps to hold out an arm for their sister, who took them graciously.

They walked towards the Slytherin table with their heads held high.

Hermione's eyes found Toms, and she nodded politely as they approached.

"Tom." She said with a small smile, which looked forced "May we sit with you?"

"Please," Tom gestured for the three to sit across from him.

Tom smiled sweetly as they moved to sit

Rostislav Lestrange narrowed his eyes, peering through his long hair. Tom gave him a sharp look and instantly the mad pureblood slid down the bench to make room. Avery stood, offering his seat to the Flamel's, then bowed and sat further down.

"It's great to see you again Tom." Harry smiled warmly taking a seat on the right side of Hermione. "You haven't met our brother Ron- Ron this is Tom, he was considerate enough to watch over us and our wands while we were recovering."

Ron nodded to Tom "Thanks for that, mate. I was a mess after the accident. Glad my wand didn't break my fall…again."

The purebloods that surrounded the Flamel's winced at Ron's statement. Losing a wand was akin to losing a limb.

"You snapped your own wand?" Tom said with such concern that Hermione thought he deserved an award.

Ron scratched the back of his neck "I was twelve when it happened. Bit stupid really, but then again how many people can say they crashed a flying car into a tree?"

"What did you do to the Sorting Hat?" Rostislav asked rudely changing the subject.

Tom gave Ros a look with a smile that promised punishment, but Ron only laughed.

"Nothing! It just looked inside my head for a few seconds!" Ron smirked earning a crazed smile from Ros.

Hermione shook her head

"Your health must be doing much better," Tom commented, not bothering to reach for any dessert. "Or else how does one explain your bright robust appearance?"

Hermione placed a slice of cherry pie on her brother's plates, then proceeded to serve Tom a slice.

Tom's eyes widened at the gesture. Harry and Ron sat comfortably and smile up at Tom, urging him to take a bite. Hermione poured Tom a cup of punch, doing the same for her brothers.

Tom still refused to touch his plate, or his goblet. No one had ever served him food before…not like this.

It was always mealy slop from a great big dirty pot, behind a line of stinking children…this was different.

The Slytherin boys had stopped serving themselves and eating. They were watching Tom who seemed to have forgotten where he was.

"Our appearance? We've always looked like this, Tom. Papa tells us our previous appearance was a result of the explosion from his lab." Hermione explained with a shrug. "He won't tell us most of the projects he works on, so Ron, Harry, and I became curious."

Harry rolled his eyes, motioning to Ron.

"Ron convinced us we should have an adventure into our father's lab." Harry snorted.

Hermione was impressed at how convincing her best friend was at lying.

"Is it my fault? Because I clearly remember the two of you complaining about how bored you were!" Ron snorted pointing a finger at Harry and Hermione.

"Ronald, you were the one who trapezed through Papas lab like a drunken minotaur in a tea shop!" Hermione played along, watching the rest of the Slytherins eat up their story

"What sort of concoction is powerful enough to rip the sky open and spit out three individuals from another country?" Tom asked with curious innocence.

"An Alchemist never reveals his secrets, not even to his children." Hermione answered with a shrug.

"And what about you, Miss Flamel?" Tom asked taking a small slow bite out of his cherry pie "what of your secrets?"

Tom licked the red syrup from his fork, never taking his eyes off Hermione.

Ron and Harry tensed. They slipped their hands over Hermione's thighs from beneath the table; stroking her through her silks, and squeezing her possessively.

"Every woman has a secret or two we keep." Hermione said simply over her goblet.

"I don't like secrets." Tom smiled, taking another bite of his cherry pie. "but that just makes discovering them more fun."

After dessert Tom, Orion, Abraxas, Ursa, and Rostislav lead the golden trio down into the dungeons to get settled.

Harry and Ron took one look at their separate beds and then gave each other an amused look.

There was a dragging of wood against wood. The rest of the Slytherin boys watched it confusion as the Flamel boys pushed their beds together.

Abraxas said nothing and wore no expression as he watched the boys strip out of their fine white garments. Tom knew Abraxas well enough to know the boy was sizing them up and deciding their worth.

The Flamel boys threw their white robes into a gold hamper where they instantly disappeared.

Harry slipped on a thin white tunic, while Ron clad himself in nothing but a pair of white silky pajama bottoms, that rode low on his waist.

"Let's see if Hermione needs help." Harry offered to Ron who nodded seriously.

"Probably all nervous without us." Ron muttered, stressfully slipping on his white loafers.

"You've only been away from your sister for a total of ten minuets." Orion commented as he laid his school robes out for the next day.

"She doesn't admit it, but our sister hates the dark."

Ron looked up sharply at Harry "Did you pack her 'Eternal Flame'?"

"That bluebell flame she keeps in a jar? It's a glorified nightlight. And no, I didn't pack it- I thought you did!" Harry said the last with a gasp.

"What the fuck Harry? Christ-Merlin-Shit! You know she needs that!"

"She needs us. She's too old for a nightlight." Harry snapped, flinging out his arm, fraught with anxiety.

"Pleeeease don't call it a nightlight- you know she'd skin us alive if she knew."

"Yeah, remember when I cast 'engrogio' on it?" Harry laughed

"You almost set the tent on fire." Ron snorted "who the fuck tries to grow a fire? Bloody psycho."

"but did we die?"

"I've lost count how many near death experiences we've had." Ron sighed then spun around rubbing his face with his hands.

Harry grabbed Ron's white night robe and threw it to him "let's just drag her back to our bed. I don't think we should leave her all alone on her first night."

"Of course, we shouldn't!" Ron slipped on his robe, then reached for Harry's hand and crossed the room. "I don't think these sleeping arrangements are going to work."

"Ron, close your robe." Harry snapped behind him.

"No time!"

"Excuse me." Ursa Avery interrupted sharply as he blocked the door "boys aren't allowed in the female quarters, even if Miss Flamel is family."

"Avery is right, Flamel." Orion perked up "Both Abraxas and I have sisters there, and couldn't permit any male entering their quarters."

Harry saw Abraxas turn sharply to stand by Orion. He wore a cold unfeeling expression.

"I'm afraid it just isn't suitable." Abraxas replied, slowly enunciating his words that reminded him of Snape.

"But don't you check on your sisters? What if they need you? What if they have a nightmare? Don't you kiss them goodnight?" Harry asked quietly looking between Abraxas and Orion.

"They're not children, Flamel. Our sisters are twelve and they understand that." Orion sneered "Your sister is a Seventh Year. Surely a lady, such as she, doesn't require mollycoddling, nor a kiss goodnight."

"I think you should move before I make you." Ron smiled at Avery, who didn't budge an inch.

"How unchivalrous of you." Harry hissed with undisguised disgust "Our sisters are the pride a pureblood family! The world will see how we regard them, and in turn show them the utmost respect. Treat them as ladies, and the world will regard them as queens. Treat them with indifference, and watch the world use them as a footstool."

Harry could see his words having an effect of Orion and Abraxas, but Avery would not be moved.

He was like a dead eyed shark who lurked in the shadows, waiting for his prey.

"Regardless, it's against the rules."

"Do I look like I give a shit?" Ron laughed taking a step towards Avery. All those years of watching Draco Malfoy was paying off, and Ron and Harry would not back down.

"Breaking school rules on your first night?" tsked Avery then sarcastically smiled "Now what sort of house member would I be if I allowed that?"

"We're going to tell her goodnight." Harry said softly, but in such a way that made Ursa do a double take. "and either you move, or I will challenge you to a duel for my sisters honor."

He looked frightening, and reminded Ursa of the way Riddle got when he meant business.

"Avery." Came the smooth voice behind Harry.

Speak of the devil.

The occupants turned to find Tom lounging in his bed, staring into the canopy. His blue eyes flickered to Avery who immediately backed away from the door, glaring at Ron.

Just as Harry made a move to open the door, a soft knock came from the other side.

Ron moved quickly, shoving Avery and Harry aside and threw open the door.

Tom's eyes narrowed as he saw Hermione standing in the threshold, smiling up at her brothers.

Tom stared at her doll- like face possessed with haunted adult eyes; eerie, powerful, seductive, golden.

"I figured you wouldn't have been able to come see me." She said, then turned to acknowledge the other boys. But it was Tom that she parted another smile to.

She doesn't seem afraid anymore, Tom thought, running a hand though his dark locks.

That won't do.

"Good evening Tom." Hermione says with a curtsy.

He noticed Hermione holding something behind her back, curiously he cocked an eyebrow.

Tom can't help but feel a tingle of pleasure at the sight of her bowing before him. Tom pauses for a moment, then inclines his head.

"Good evening to you, Miss Flamel." Tom says courteously "It's a pleasure to see you again. I assume your quarters are satisfactory?"

Hermione nods "I'm very comfortable, thank you. I just stopped by to see if my brothers had settled in."

Tom notices that he's gripping the sheets tightly, and instantly lets go.

Tom turns to her one last time. She's wearing a white chemise nightgown which reaches the floor. Pearls and stitched lace decorate the collar and frilled cuffs. She resembles both a woman and a child. She's weirdly seductive, yet humble. It's like she doesn't even know the power she has.

Hermione eyes Tom as he turns his attention back to reading his book.

She could tell that Tom was clearly unaccustomed to such wealth as he observed the. Even in the presence of the other pureblood boys, the Flamel's were an imposing group.

Hermione could tell at a glance that Tom was disdainful of his own plain grey pajamas. He had eyed the pearls sewn into her collar with jealousy, but it was only a flash and then it was gone. No one else had caught it.

"Mione, Ron forgot your Eternal Flame thingy." Harry blurted out with a laughy, earning an elbow in the ribs.

"Harry called it a nightlight!" Ron said pointing at Harry.

Hermione rolled her eyes, moving past her brothers towards Tom.

He did not look up, but she could see him stiffen.

Harry and Ron followed her, eyeing the well wrapped package behind her back.

"Tom?" Hermione spoke quietly, but loud enough for the rest of the dorm to hear.

Tom snapped his book shut and turned to face Hermione with an innocent schoolboy expression of curiosity.

"I realized the other night that we hadn't properly thanked you for watching over us." Hermione said, moving to sit beside him on at the edge of his bed.

Toms eyes narrowed, and Hermione allowed herself a little smirk knowing he was caught completely off guard.

"It was no trouble at all." Tom said politely "please, think nothing of it."

Hermione only shook her head, her curls tumbling over her shoulders beautifully.

"I remember acting rather rude towards you, after waking. It was inexcusable." Hermione said looking contrite. "On behalf of me and my brothers, I wanted to give you a token of our gratitude."

Tom seemed surprised before, but now looked stunned. He said nothing as Hermione presented Tom with an elegantly wrapped gift.

Tom took it and realized how very heavy it was. As he carefully unwrapped the gift he held back a gasp as he realized what he was holding.

It was an ornate box made of pure gold.

He looked up into Hermione's face with an unreadable expression.

"open it." She whispered excitedly, scooting so close that their thighs were touching.

Tom tensed, glancing down at her silk clad thigh against his.

"this isn't the gift?" Tom asked looking alarmed now.

"Of course, it isn't! Now open it, I can hardly take the suspense!" Hermione said excitedly.

Tom opened the box slowly as if waiting for a skeletal hand to reach out of it and grab him by the throat.

What is this bitch playing at?

The other boys craned their necks to see.

Tom opened the box and stared down at the item sitting within it.

It looked like a lock of silver hair which had been braided into a bracelet. There was nothing remotely special about it, except the color and texture.

What is it?

Tom picked it up and examined it. None of the other boys seemed to know what it was either, not even her brothers.

"it's a lock of Pegasus mane." Hermione explained "It has magical properties of happiness and pleasure and can be used in potions, or worn on the body. I have a lock braided into my hair at the nape of my neck, see?—"

Hermione turned and lifted her mass of curls off her long slender neck. The back of her milky white neck was exposed, and in her hair was a long silver lock, braided neatly.

When she turned back around she noticed Toms eyes were still staring around her neck. He swallowed hard, his blue eyes unfocused and hungry.

"Will you wear it?" she asked quietly, causing Tom to look up sharply.

"Yes." He answered almost too quickly.

Hermione smiled brightly reaching for the bracelet. She took Toms hand boldly, knowing that a large park of her elation and courage was due to the Pegasus hair braided into her hair.

Tom held out his wrist as she slipped it on.

Tom couldn't stop his heartrate from escalating, nor the sudden flood of warmth that came from the bracelet as it touched his skin. His hand flinched and pulled away from Hermione as if he had been burned.

He let out a breath he had been holding and quickly thanked her for her gift.

"It was thoughtful of you to remember me." Tom said in a well-mannered tone "And I hope your academic career at Hogwarts will be beneficial one."

"I'm sure it will be immensely beneficial… to everyone." Hermione said at last before standing.

Ron and Harry were both leaning against the posts of their beds which had been combined into one.

And then Tom watches as Hermione leaves his side and crosses the space towards her brothers.

Tom feels an unfamiliar emotion grab at him, and suddenly he can't help but want to curse her brothers away from Hermione.

They envelope her into an embrace. She snuggles securely into their chests, as they tug at her perfect curls.

Her brothers pass her back and forth. She suddenly pulls away to wack Harry on the chest.

"Bloody hell Hermione!"

"That's for calling my flames a nightlight." She scolded like a mother hen "Do you know how long it took me to create it? It's an Eternal Flame, which means nothing can put it out! Can you even comprehend how much time and effort went into creating a flame that can NEVER be extinguished? Even Fyre Fiend is venerable to being extinguished!"

"You tell him sis." Ron goaded, earning a burning hex from Harry, which he dodged easily.

"and you," Hermione rounded on the red head, who was currently hiding behind a curtain "Next time you borrow my flames without my permission, I'm going to break your broom!"

"is that a reference to my—"

"your broomstick Ronald!" Hermione snapped, but was cut off by the sound of a door banging open.

The room turned to see the door to the boy's showers opened.

Rostislav Lestrange walked out whistling, completely naked, and dripping wet, with steam still coming off his body.

Hermione's jaw dropped.

He swaggered confidently past everyone to the bed by the door, throwing himself back to sprawl out.

Hermione's eyes widened as Lestrange winked at her, but was instantly yanked back by Ron, who then proceeded to throw her over his shoulder like a bag of potato's.

"Nope!" He yelled "Nope. Nope. Nope!"

She squeaked as Harry threw a spell at her eyes to blindfold her, so she could see nothing but darkness.

"Ronald Billius Flamel! You put me down this instant! Oh! Let go of me!" Hermione cried, pounding her fists against his broad back. "Harry! Don't you dare let him bully me!"

She tried yanking the blindfold off in her panic, but was unsuccessful.

"But I always enjoy it when he bullies you, Mione." Harry laughed playfully, following behind Ron as if he were enjoying the view.

"Hush brat!" Ron snapped, giving Hermione a sound smack on her bottom as strode from the room "Your too young to see things like that."

"We're the same bloody age!" Hermione's voice echoed through the stairwell as they left, leaving all five boys staring at the door in both shock and amusement. "And I didn't see anything!"

Lestrange glanced down at his cock and laughed hysterically. "Should I be insulted?"

"You should be committed." Avery hissed, throwing a spell at Lestrange's curtains to close themselves.

Meanwhile Abraxas and Orion looked at one another skeptically.

"They seem…close." Orion offered with a cocked eyebrow.

"I wouldn't say close is the right word." Abraxas said quietly "Certainly not the kinship my sister and I share."

Meanwhile, Tom sat in his bed, still staring at the door they had exited through with animosity.

Then suddenly a warmth of pure magic flowed from his wrist and spread through his limbs.

He felt a euphoric urge to smile and laugh at the exchange that took place.

He felt suddenly all the anger leave him, as if a weight had been lifted off his chest.

What the fuck is this? What's happening to me?

The feeling frightened him, and instantly he tore off the braided Pegasus bracelet from his wrist, tossing it back into the golden box.

The feeling frightened him to the point of sickness. His body was repulsed by it and rejected the new emotion.

Tom stared hatefully at the splendid box before turning towards Rostislav's bed.

He pointed his wand at the curtains which ripped themselves open. Tom threw a silencing charm over the room and leapt out of bed, brandishing his wand before him.

"Crucio!" he hissed as a stream of red light shot out of his wand and hit Rostislav.

The naked boy arched his back off the bed in unadulterated agony.

The rest of the boys watched passively, as if this was a regular occurrence, and did not pity the boy at all.

.

As the week began Hermione found Tom creepier than charming, and wondered why no one else seemed to notice.

She had taken the braided Pegasus lock out of her hair, and suddenly felt unbelievably disgusted with herself. She underestimated how much power those locks had.

Hermione had smiled sweetly at Tom, spoke to him with as much comfort as she had with Harry or Ron.

Left and right students fell for Toms well placed words and charismatic flare.

Hermione couldn't help feeling alarmed at how popular he was. On the outside Tom Riddle seemed perfect. Indeed, she could understand why girls and even a few of the boys looked at Tom as if he were Adonis incarnate.

The boy was stunning.

Not that it mattered.

He was a killer.

It was infuriating to not know what horrible thoughts and plans were swirling around in that dark head of his.

A few times she had raised her head from her plate, during mealtimes, to find him watching her with a cruel smile playing across his lips.

He smiled as if he were thinking about something amusing about her. It made Hermione's blood boil, but she swallowed the feeling and returned Toms smile with a bright one of her own.

Every now and then Ron or Harry would elbow her in her side.

"We're supposed to be making friends with Riddle, so maybe stop treating him like something stuck at the bottom of your shoe?" Ron whispered before shoveling a load of potatoes into his mouth.

"I smiled." Hermione insisted, as she reached to pull a book from her bag.

"you grimaced." Harry pointed out "and you're doing it again. You wear your heart on your sleeve, and if you mean to fool anyone then start with me. If you can fool me, you can fool them. I can practically hear your teeth grinding together. Also, his feelings are coming through loud and clear no thanks to this fucking scar."

"Language Harry."

But it was true. She didn't want to befriend Riddle- she hated him. She avoided him at all cost, and began paying more attention to her surrounding in the corridors.

She was always in a state of alert and couldn't turn a corner without looking over she shoulder.

Hermione was constantly aware of the boy in class, the common room, library, Great Hall, and courtyard. Her eyes always found his and quickly looked away, but she could feel his eyes still on her.

Gods, he was creepy!

And those boys Ton surrounded himself with were equally as unsettling!

Ursa Avery's narrow eyes shifted in constant suspicion, and held a cruel darkness. He often wore the hood of his robes over his head which, in Hermione's opinion, made him look a bit like an evil Sith Lord.

Ursa Avery had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, which held an enigmatic, and secretive expression that Hermione didn't like.

Then there was Orion Black, Lord Orion Black, who also had dark blonde hair, which curled like Riddles.

He didn't have the dark Black family hair, but his blue eyes and long narrow nose were like Sirius.

He was regal and snobbish. And although he rarely spoke to anyone other than Tom or Abraxas, he always sales pointed questions to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, that put them on edge.

"Why would Lord and Lady Flamel send you to Hogwarts? No Flamel has ever attended school outside of Beubaxtons."

"Usually siblings resemble one another. However the three of you are as different from each other as night is from day…except your eyes and skin."

"So Lord an Lady decided to have children- triplets- at 600 years old? And if you three were born at the same time, who will inherit the Flamel estate?"

"You three seem to know your way around the castle extremely well, surely you haven't memorized the entire castle in just a few days?"

"Interesting how the three of you were in your night garments when you fell… and in the middle of the day too."

Hermione outright avoided Orion Black at all cost.

Then there was Ros, or Rostislav Lestrange.

There was a feverish fanatical glow with Rostislav Lestrange as he watched Tom speak. His long hair curtained his face which he peered through with eyes that held a sadistic humor.

His mouth spread into grin that would have made a Hungarian Horntail proud. His teeth were shiny and white and always flashed hungrily towards muggleborns who got too close to him.

He looked ready to eat them alive.

Of Toms entourage, Abraxas Malfoy was certainly the royal egotist of the group. Every movement and gesture seemed well thought out and planned. He hyperaware of each action he took and word he spoke. He always sat upright and never once bowed his head to eat, drink, or converse. And when he looked her way, Hermione got the feeling he could see right through her.

So that's where Draco got his piercing eyes from.

Hermione had seen Abraxas occasionally with his sister, Nebula, who was as sweet and tender as a lamb.

The girl looked no older than nine or ten with white blonde hair, clear blue eyes and tiny limbs.

She was the smallest Slytherin, even smaller than some of the first years, and had a purity about her that Hermione admired.

Nebula Malfoy had a nervous personality as if she were waiting for a reprimand at any moment.

Hermione was taken with the girl, and often engaged in small conversations with her in the common room, or helped her with her homework.

Harry, Ron and Hermione wore their school uniforms during the day, but always changed into their formal white garments after. Everyone seemed to avoid them as if they thought the Flamel's too intimidating to approach.

They were treated more like celebrities than anything.

"Harry, is this the bullshit you had to deal with for the past seven years? God, I don't think I can take it!" Ron complained as they left Advanced Ancient Runes.

Hermione on the other hand made it her mission to befriend everyone she met from any house.

Avoiding Tom seemed easier than she thought, as the boy was rarely seen outside of class mingling with other students.

Probably in the Chamber with that monster, Hermione thought, and wondered when Harry and Ron would be willing to go into the Chamber to slaughter the great snake

During classes together, Hermione made a point to sit as far from the boy as she could.

A part of her just wanted to hunt his Horcruxes and kill him.

She wanted it over and done with, and hated pretending to be bright and sweet. Hermione was sick of playing the pureblood princess.

She hated tolerating the prejudices and conforming to the strict formal mask. She hated watching Tom Riddle being fawned over. She hated how easily he walked the halls of Hogwarts, and knowing the carnage he would cause if fifty years.

During class when Tom was called upon to answer a question, he was thorough and detailed in every answer. Hermione, on the other hand, made it a point not to draw attention to herself.

Never-the-less, her assignments scored higher than his, her spells were masters quicker, and her knowledge on nearly all her subjects surpassed even Tom.

Again, she sent a prayer of thanks to McGonagall for her private lessons.

She had read the Half Blood Prince's book from back to front in her time, and it showed during Potions class. Slughorn adored Hermione and even remarked how her potions surpassed anyone he had ever taught.

"I have a little get together once a month with a few select students," Slughorn boasted merrily "I'd like to invite you and your brothers next Friday evening at seven! Oh you must come, we'll have an excellent dinner and desert and conversation!"

By this time Tom Riddle caught on that Hermione wasn't like everyone else. She wasn't a know it all, she didn't try to stand out, and yet you couldn't help but admire her quiet intelligence.

When Hermione met Tom's eyes, she could have sworn she saw a flash of red in his blue eyes.

"He hates you." Harry panted out as the three of them ran laps around the quidditch pitch.

They hadn't trained for months and it was beginning to show. Harry decided they needed to strengthen themselves every morning for a few hours before breakfast. Begrudgingly, Hermione and Ron agreed.

"I feel it burning in my scar, trying to take over."

"That means he isn't wearing the bracelet." Hermione said, running faster to catch up with Ron "I tried Harry- I thought if he wore the bracelet you'd be protected from the connection! The point of the damn thing was to help him calm his emotions, I'm so sorry Harry!"

"Hermione, I'm more concerned that he has such a fixation towards you!" Harry said sounding disturbed "it's weird. It like he hates you, and wants you at the same time!"

"What?" came Ron's shocked voice, as he slowed his pace "What do you mean, wants?"

"I don't know exactly. It's like he wants to possess her, but mostly Riddle just hates her- more than he does us." Harry said grimly "Mione, I want you to promise you won't wander off on your own. And don't you dare let yourself be alone with him."

"I don't know if I can do this." Hermione slowed her pace "every time I look at him I just….I want to kill him."

Ron nodded as they began to cool down their morning workout.

"I don't like how he's always staring at you." Ron ground out "I don't like the way everyone is always staring at you."

"What?"

"Every fucking male in that school! Don't tell me you haven't noticed! They look at you like they can see strait through your clothes!" Ron shouted, leading them towards the edge of the forbidden forest. "if I see another bastard staring at your ass, I'm gonna lose it!"

"Language—"

But the reprimand was instantly cut off.

Ronald spun around and grabbed Hermione around the waist and hauled her over his shoulder.

Hermione, being caught off guard, gasped as Ron snatched up Harrys hand and guided them towards an old fallen tree.

"Wait! We can't, someone will see us!" Hermione, still out of breath from their workout.

He set Hermione down hard and began ripping off her workout pants and sweater. Harry made quick work with her underwear, until she lay completely naked in front of them.

She looked like the nymph Daphne, who was pursued by the god Apollo, before turning into a laurel tree.

Her hair spilled down her back to her hips, her skin glowing like moonlight, her breasts soft and round, her nipples small and pink.

Hermione bit her lip, as she raised her hands to cover her breasts. Instead, Harry walked behind her and took her wrists, spelling them together with invisible binds behind her back.

Harry slid his hands under her breasts, pinching her nipples.

"We really hate being apart from you. We can't stand it, Mione." Harry whispered, kissing her bare shoulders.

Meanwhile, Ron knelt before Hermione and slowly pried her legs apart.

"No, don't…don't look!" Hermione whined with embarrassment "Ron, don't!"

"But I want to look. I want to see it." Ron said in a heavy voice "I want to taste it."

Hermione gasped as Ron trailed kisses up her inner thigh until he found her slit.

He had never talked to her like that, neither of them had. It was strange…but good too…but mostly strange.

Hermione cried with pleasure as Ron began to devour her. She thrashed her head back and forth, gasping and bucking.

Ron's tongue slipped inside of her, as his fingers began working into her ass, stretching her out.

"R-Ron, Ron we can't- not…not here!" She cried, yet bucked her hips closer to his mouth "Oh God! Harry! M-make him st…oh!"

A devilish chuckle came from her ear as Harry bit down on her neck.

"But I like watching him bully you, Mione." He breathed wickedly. "I always have."

Harry pulled Hermione up, lifting her up by hooking his elbows under her thigh. He lifted her up un such a way that her legs spread farther apart.

Ron sat back as Harry positioned her over his cock and slowly brought her down.

She was stretched and slick with Ron's saliva as Harry sat on the fallen tree and set her down until his entire length was inside of her.

Hermione cried out helplessly, as he began bouncing her up and down. Faster and faster he slammed her down until she began to beg for more.

Ron sat watching from between her legs. Hearing her cry out was more than enough, but to see Harry flushed against Hermione was more than Ron could bare. He stood up, slowly unzipping his trousers.

He pulled out his length and began stroking it against her slit.

"hush, love…let go."

Hermione cried out as Ron teased her clit with the head of his cock. Then just as suddenly as he began teasing her, he stepped back. She felt a jolt of disappointment at the loss of such a sensation.

Hermione studied Ron's expression, as if he were making a serious decision.

And then he reached down and grabbed a handful of her pussy over her clit. He pulled up and down, gently working the area around her clit to build up the blood flow.

"I can't believe it took us this long to realize how perfect you are…our perfect girl." Ron whispered as he continued to pull.

Harry craned his head over Hermione's shoulder to watch him work.

"it needs punishment, Ron." Harry chuckled darkly "You need to teach her who she belongs to."

Ron nodded, then experimentally gave Hermione's pussy a soft slap, causing her to throw her head back and gasp.

She flushed red, and tried to look away but Harry stopped her with the side of his cheek.

"Watch," He breathed kissing her tenderly "watch him, love."

There was so much blood that had rushed between her legs from Ron's efforts, and she feel her pulse throbbing in her swollen clit

The wet sound drove both Harry and Ron over the edge.

He slapped her again, and again. It was firm and quick. And then his hand began slapping her pussy in rhythm with Harry pounding into her.

Hermione began to scream incoherently, unafraid of getting caught by anyone.

Let them see, let them hear! I don't care!

Harry gave Ron a look and then a moment later he slid inside of her from the front.

Hermione screamed again as she was stretched tighter than she had ever been. For a moment she thought she might break in two.

She felt unbearably tight and full. It was painful yet pleasurable, and she wanted more.

Pain

Pleasure

Pain

Pleasure

"You belong to us, Hermione." Ron panted, grinding against her "They can look at your ass all day, but you belong to us! Only us!"

"Say it, Mione." Harry whispered lovingly, as he tightened his elbows around her thighs, pulling them farther apart. "say you belong to us…"

"I'm…I belong…ah! Yours!" She cried incoherently.

"Who does this belong to?" Ron demanded again, digging his fingers into her hips

She knew it was wrong, but there was no way to stop the words from flooding out of her mouth

"Neh! Y-you!" She cried out, hating herself for digging herself into a deeper hole.

She loved them. They were hers as much as she was theirs…and yet with a heavy heart she knew it couldn't last.

Hermione wanted to live in this moment forever, and never leave. She wanted them just like this. She wanted to grow old with them…but she knew it would end eventually. She had a keen eye for such things, she always had.

But as she gripped Ron's shoulder with one hand and Harry's hip with the other, she dismissed such thoughts. She gripped them tighter as she forced her body to rock faster and faster against them.

"That's our girl." Ron panted in approval.

They stayed in the forest for another hour before they made their way back towards the castle.

Ron carried Hermione bridal style, demanding that she rest and bathe before classes. Harry promised to bring her breakfast, and urged her to soak for at least an hour before heading to class.

By the time they got back to the Slytherin common room, Hermione fast was asleep.

Ron and Harry decided to let her sleep through her first class, History of Magic, risking Hermione's wrath upon waking...

Which came in the form of a dozen canaries chasing the two of them through the dungeons. They ran past a group of seventh year Slytherins like a bat out of Hell.

"Bloody woman's a menace! MOVE!" Ron screamed, shoving Abraxas and Orion aside as the canaries did a nose dive.

"This from the girl who thought being expelled would be worse than death?" Harry laughed over his shoulder "You're losing your touch, Mione!"

"Stop goading her on you idiot!" Ron screamed as the first canary imbedded its beak into the side of his ass

.

It was Friday when Hermione retreated to the library instead of having dinner. She didn't have enough confidence to sit amongst Riddle and his minions listening to pureblood politics.

Coward. You know damn well this has nothing to do with whatever drivel comes out of their mouths. You're avoiding him. Becoming close to him was YOUR idea.

Hermione banished such thoughts from her mind as she approached the library.

I won't allow any thoughts of that boy into such a sacred place, Hermione thought.

She threw open the library doors, and stopped for a moment in the threshold.

Her hard expression instantly melted into a half dreamy smile.

I'm truly home now.

She walked in without a thought to her direction, and kept walking. Through the stacks and corridors of books she brushed her fingers against the spines. They were so familiar to her, like old friends.

When Hermione was a first year and friendless, she could retreat into the stacks for comfort.

When she had a problem, there wasn't anything books couldn't solve.

When she just wanted peace, she could find silence and solitude.

Best of all, the boys usually left her alone when she brought up any inclination to visit the library.

With her free hand Hermione, she made a complicated gesture with her pointer finger. Instantly books began pulling themselves off the shelves and floated behind her.

"You know," a silky voice drawled behind a hidden stack "not many are versed in the wandless arts. Its considered an art which takes years to master."

Hermione jumped, knocking her back against the opposite stack. The tombs, which were levitating behind her, fell loudly to the floor. Her wand was firm as she cast a protective blue shield around herself.

But something about the shield was different. It was stronger and crackled with threatening blue fire.

She knew she should have been hot, but the flames did not harm her.

Tom Riddle sat on the floor with a thick book propped up in his lap. He was grinning as if he was enjoying himself immensely. He seemed quite willing to simply watch Hermione react to his presence.

Hermione, realizing where she was, and who was in front of her, dropped her shield.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded nervously pulling out her wand to summon her fallen books.

He remained seated comfortably.

"No need to use a wand on my account" he said pleasantly, shutting his book with a snap " seems like you're doing just fine on your own without it."

He stood fluidly, and set his book on a nearby shelf without looking where he set it. Something Hermione found irksome, but refrained from commenting.

"I've studied under my father during the Summer." She said quickly, averting her eyes "anyone could do it, given the training."

"is that so?" Tom asked pleasantly, taking a step towards her. "and you've mastered it all in one summer? Interesting."

"Yes." Hermione knew what Tom was doing, and wouldn't allow him to back her into a corner.

"In fact, using wands is a European invention." She rattled off in the same lecturing tone she used with Ron and Harry. "The largest wizarding school in the world emphasizes heavily on defense and its students do not use wands. So, in fact the majority of trained witches and wizards are masters of wandless magic. The school, Uagadau- pronounced wag-a-do, is located in Africa. Their main focus is in Astrology, Self-Transfiguration, and Alchemy… a study my father certainly knows a thing or two about. Luckily, our families bloodline contains enough power that we need very little training on the subject. So, your assumption that most are not versed in wandless magic is false, and I advise you not to spew out such rhetoric in the future."

Tom froze, and before Hermione understood what was happening she was thrown back by an invisible force. Her head knocked against the book shelf and before she could stretch out her fingers, Tom cast a silencing spell around them…

And then Tom Riddle broke her fingers.

He bent her fingers so far backwards that they three of them broke with a sharp CRACK!

Hermione screamed in silence, but was able to wretch her other hand out of his grasp, but not before he pointed his wand at her and snapped—

"Petrificus totalus!"

She was frozen in a state of panic and fury and pain. She bared her teeth at him, with her opposite hand outstretched towards him. She became like one of the menacing statues around Hogwarts.

And she was in so much pain. Her hand throbbed, and she desperately wanted to cling it to her chest and cry.

He broke her fingers.

He broke her fucking fingers!

THAT EVIL BASTARD BROKE HER FUCKING FINGERS!

"Oh, don't look at me that way, princess. I couldn't risk you using those little fingers against me." Tom smiled pleasantly as if nothing happened. "and such power those little fingers hold."

And then suddenly Tom stopped talking, his blue eyes were on nothing but her.

"The bracelet you gave me…you wanted to control me with it, didn't you?" Tom asked fishing the silver braided bracelet from his pocket, dangling it in front of her nose "Witches like you enjoy controlling the emotions of a man. I know all about witches who try bewitching men with trinkets and potions, if not their own bodies. Heh! It's funny, I never met my mother… yet you remind me of her."

Tom raised his wand so that it hovered between her eyes. His head tilted to one side, like a curious child, as if he was wondering what would happened if he proceeded.

"and she was disgusting."

He was scanning her from head to toe, slowly circling her like a vulture. She felt his piercing eyes rake up and down her body and felt such a violation boil over within her.

liberate me de vincula mea

Hermione tried not to focus on Toms wand stroking her spine. Instead, she focused on her magic within, and continued chanting the words in her heart.

liberate me de vincula mea

"You're still such a mystery to me. Despite my name; puzzles and problems were never appealing to me." Tom said with an eerie calm "and yet….I find I can't stop thinking about you. You've bewitched the bracelet to ensnare me…what else have you done, witch?"

Hermione's heart skipped a beat, and not in the romantic sense.

liberate me de vincula mea!

"I can feel your power is different. My first impression of you was correct. You're not like the others, not even your so called brothers. You have something they lack." Tom continued "you're just like me. Intelligent, manipulating...and even somewhat beaitiful to people who actually care about such things. And power. I can feel a strong power rising within you...even now I feel it in here—"

Tom placed his hand against her between her breats on her sternum and smiled.

liberate me de vincula mea!

His expression changed, and he suddenly looked extreamly amused.

"You want to hurt me...No-no, you want more than that. hum... I wonder... do you want to kill me miss Flamel?" Tom smiled, his voice dropping to a whisper "Yes, I can feel that much from you. And this isn't the first time you've had a feeling like this... And do you want to know something else I know?"

Tom leaned in so close that his lips brushed agaist Hermiones ear.

"I know you and your brothers have killed people, very very recently. Especially your delicate brother with the scar." He breathed, then paused for a moment before dipping his head to inhale the scent of her skin "Funny how your wands give away so much of your character from the spells you cast. I had a chance to review your wands after you three fell out of the sky- extensively... I wonder what would happen if someone found out?"

Toms wand stroked her cheek, down her neck, then followed her collar into her white blouse.

LIBERATE ME DE VINCULA ME!

At that moment Hermione felt a surge of magic pulse through her veins.

The bonds holding her body in a petrified state fell, and as they did she finished the spell with her fingers.

Instantly, Tom crumpled to the ground in a heap of uncontrollable pain.

She silenced him with a flick of her finger, but allowed her wandless Crucio to remain for a few moments longer.

The familiar sensation filled her belly as she watched him scream soundlessly.

It felt good to give in.

Her eyes glazed over and her heart began to calm. She smiled as his nose began to run with blood and tears leaked from the corners of his eyes.

Human after all.

Hermione wondered how long he would last if she just walked away with her books and found a table to study at while he twitched and bled to death in silence.

She smiled as Tom sucks in a breath. Its greedy and horrible, and desperate.

And then Hermione blinked, gasping in horror at what she was doing.

She ended the spell and fell to her knees next to Tom. Her hands shook as she turned him over. He was shaking violently and heaving for air as though he were suffocating.

Oh my God, what've I done?

And then Hermione felt a throbbing pain in her right hand and remembered that her fingers were still broken.

She looked at him sharply, but offered him no more aid.

His eyes began to focus again, meeting her hazel eyes with a leveled gaze.

And then he smiled.

She was too shocked to react, instead, she stared down at the dark-haired boy as if he had grown a second head.

"I knew I wasn't the only one." He laughed weakly "I knew you were special like me."

"You're evil." Hermione spat "the devil incarnate!"

Tom shut his eyes and huffed out a weak laugh.

"You're not afraid of anything, are you?" Tom said flashing a mischievous smile. "not even the devil?"

"Why should I be?" Hermione demanded.

There was a moment where Tom smiled so beautifully, and she felt herself becoming spellbound.

"You said I'm evil, and yet you're not afraid of me?...regardless, evil is a point of view." Tom shuddered violently, turning on his side to clutch his stomach. It's all just Cultural Relativism."

"What?"

Tom glared up at her as if she were an idiot

"Cultural Relativism" He said in a slow mocking tone "the idea that good and evil don't actually have a standard. So essentially everything we understand as being right or wrong is a product of what our society tells us. Therefore, any opinion you have of me is based on perspective. Ultimately there is no such thing as good morals or ethics."

"Obviously our perspectives differ."

"I wouldn't say that at all, in fact I would even say you and I aren't so different after all." Tom challenged "Besides, that wasn't a tickling hex you just threw at me, was it? So, then the question remains- what makes you so much better than me? "

Hermione didn't know whether to help him or hurt him further…instead she stood, towering over Tom who lay at her feet, still smiling like a maniac.

"I'm nothing like you, Riddle. Nothing." Hermione sneered "and if you ever lay your hands on me again, Ill make sure you pull back a bloody stump."

Her words only caused Tom to laugh harder. His voice was high pitched and hysterical. He was a sight to see laughing and twitching in pain, with blood leaking from his nose.

"Just because society doesn't understand us doesn't mean we're wrong, Hermione." Tom gasped "Don't you have ambitions to see a better future for our world? I see something those brothers of yours can't see. A power that's barely begun to blossom…I can help you on the way to greatness. You and I both."

"You broke my fingers in order to force me to submit to you! I know the society you want to build up, and it starts on the backs of muggleborns and muggles! If you broke my fingers just to have the upper hand, what then will you do to those weaker than me?!" Hermione shouted, thankful there was still a silencing spell around them. "your aspirations for world domination is flawed and nonsensical."

Toms laughter died. He was looking up at Hermione thoughtfully before pushing himself up to sit.

"You're mistaken if you think I broke your fingers to force you into submission." Tom said in a hard-cool voice "When, in fact, I did it for my own pleasure."

The hairs in the back of Hermione's neck stood on end.

Tom was slow to stand, and had this faraway look in his eye and something else too.

"What?" Hermione stepped back. Suddenly she felt as if she were speaking with her Lord Voldemort from the future. His reptilian face flashed in her mind. "You're sick- your manner of thinking is sick!"

"the all too human joy of inflicting what you would call malice on another, sickens you? You've done the same to me, and I saw the pleasure behind those golden angelic eyes!" Tom spat, pointing a finger at her

"My manner of thinking is sick? Ha! Do you suppose I care? A poor fool is he who adopts a manner of thinking for others! You limit yourself by denying what you are! I speak and live my truth. But you? You're the worst sort. You act like a doll, dress like an angel in all that fucking white! But you relish causing pain!"

"Are you sure that's me your describing Riddle? Take a look in the mirror! You attacked me, and I defended myself! That doesn't mean I enjoyed—"

"but you did!" Tom roared pointing his long finger in her face. His neatly combed hair falling out place. "I can hear the lie in your voice! Accept what you are!"

Tom backed her against a bookshelf, placing both his hands on either side of her. He leaned in so close that Hermione could smell Toms minty breath on her lips.

Hermione lifted her hand and swiftly brought it down, causing Tom to fall to his knees hard.

His eyes widened as he found his hands glued to his sides.

Tom looked down at his hands, then up at Hermione. A horrified expression crossed his face, then outrage, and angry.

She placed a finger beneath Toms chin and lifted it so that he was looking up at her. His eyes flashed a terrible red, and she wondered if Harry was feeling Tom's anger.

"I would never cause someone harm who didn't pose a threat to me. I wouldn't hurt someone for something as shallow as a bruised ego!" Hermione shouted, gripping his chin so hard that her nails were leaving crescent shaped markings.

Tom was shaking, and for a moment Hermione thought he might break her spell.

But he didn't.

"You talk as if you comprehend my aspirations. But really, you have no conception what sort of future I yearn for. You don't know me." Tom sneered. "You think you see more than you do with those keen eyes, but you have no idea. None."

"this world is hateful enough.. " Hermione said slowly "however, you too have potential to leave this world a better place."

"Leave this world?" Tom sneered, turning away from Hermione to gaze out a Library window.

Tom Riddles face remained cold and serious, and it somehow made Hermione blush. She hated it.

She flicked her wrist counterclockwise and abruptly Tom leapt to his feet.

He brought his hand up to massage his chin. He drew it away and saw a small smear of blood on the tips of his fingers

Hermione felt her heart drop into her stomach….no, she didn't mean to grab him so hard.

Toms shoulders stiffened and then he turned to face her again. He threw her a cold glance and then sighed and shut his eyes.

His face grew smooth, away went the few lines that could so easily design anger in his expression. His jaw and chin had hardened just a little more, then relaxed.

"We are what we are" He whispered passionately "you'll see one day how beautiful it is to live as your true self."

Hermione almost couldn't believe this was the same boy who broke her fingers just moments ago. He had never looked more innocent.

And then in a voice which grew quieter, he breathed—

"Sometimes," Tom said seriously, looking down at his hands "I feel this urge…the urges I get have been with me since before I can remember. It pulses through my veins like fire. Sometimes I just need to hurt someone….don't know why. I don't even know why I'm telling you this."

"Whatever your reasons, there's no justifiable way to go around hurting people just because you have an urge." Hermione hissed.

For a second he looked wounded, so uncomprehendingly innocent. Then Tom stood to full height gazing down at Hermione with heated passion.

"You gave into your urge." Tom smirked.

Hermione held up her swollen fingers and smirked right back at him. She wasn't afraid.

"That's what you get for breaking my fingers. Now fix them or I'll do something worse." She ordered, enjoying the amused expression on Toms face.

"But what if I want to see you at your worst?" Tom stepped closer to her.

His voice was a gentle, very fine voice.

A jolt of warning shot through Hermione, and she remembered to whom she was speaking to.

"Fix them now." She ordered, fearing nothing.

Tom sighed in exasperation, then glanced down at her hand and gently took it in his.

He handled her as if she were made of glass, which confused and startled Hermione to no end.

One moment he was hot, the next cold as ice. She couldn't figure him out.

He pulled out his twelve-inch yew wand. It looked like old bone and curved at the end like a bird's beak.

He tapped her wrist softly with the tip.

"Episky."

Her fingers straitened with a sharp crack and Hermione couldn't help the groan of pain that escaped her lips.

Tom looked up sharply then pointed his wand at her fingers a second time.

And then he muttered something soft under his breath. It sounded like a song, and a moment later a gentle warmth spread through her fingertips. Their hands began to glow, and then another moment later it was gone.

The pain was completely gone, and she could move her digits. A smile appeared on her face and she couldn't help but giggle. She loved magic, there was nothing better.

A moment passed. Tom hadn't released her hand. He wore a puzzled expression as he looked down at their clasped hands.

Experimentally, he squeezed his hand over hers. It wasn't hard, but it was firm enough to feel intimate.

"Come." Tom ordered, turning to walk down a corridor of worn looking texts. He had hold of her hand and pulled her along.

Hermione eyes were fixed on their hands. She felt a jolt of shock when they arrived at Hermione's favorite study table.

He let go of her hand and flexed his own.

She floated her books towards the table and set them down.

"What are we doing?" she asked as he sat down opposite her.

"Studying." He said shortly, pulling out his own book. "Seems like I actually have competition now, no thanks to you, princess."

Hermione didn't understand what just happened between the two of them, but she knew it was something significant…. To Tom at least.

Hermione on the other hand had no idea how to feel or what to do. This was definitely the strangest trip to the library she ever experienced.

She bit down on her lip, thinking about what exactly was happening. Sitting in a library, studying with a Dark Lord wasn't exactly appealing.

Especially, considering how he had attacked her only minutes ago.

What the hell is wrong with me?

"Stop doing that." He snapped, eyeing her over the worn book in his lap.

Hermione's brows knitted when he set his book aside and leaned over the table to pull her lip from between her teeth with his thumb.

"I said. Stop. Doing. That." He said in a dangerous tone that left no room for argument. "It makes you look hideous."

"Why do you even care?" Hermione snapped right back feeling a pang of hurt. She didn't want to admit that he had wounded her, and wouldn't let it show.

It's not as if she cared about her appearance, and now that her body had changed she wouldn't allow herself to become vapid and vain.

It was then she remembered Lavender Brown, and instantly deflated, feeling guilty.

An image of Lavender being eaten alive by Fenrir floated in the fore front of her mind. Her pink ribbons torn and stained with blood…

Fenrir Greyback.

She didn't want to think him.

Tom was staring at her with a strange expression, which made Hermione glare right back at him.

"Git." She accused before turning back to her own stack of books.

She must have been deep in study, because when she finally looked up, it was dark, and the torches had been lit.

And Tom was still sitting across from her, still in the shadows; studying her with unreadable expression.

Her heart shot into her throat. She had forgotten about him, and that itself unnerved her to the point if sheer panic.

She was completely alone with Tom Riddle.

Quickly she banished her books and muttered a quick 'goodnight' before walking calmly out of the library.

When she rounded the corner to the dungeons, Hermione ran as fast as her feet could take her.

She had been alone with Riddle for hours! She let her guard down- God she was so STUPID

.

Later that night Hermione lay awake in bed thinking about her first week back.

She wanted to go home, she wanted to run away. Hermione flexed her fingers experimentally, remembering the way Tom looked as he broke her fingers… she should tell Ron and Harry.

Hermione felt like a fool! She had stayed with him and studied as if nothing ever happened!

It was too much, and every moment under the same roof as Voldemort was torture!

Hermione pulled the covers around her shoulders as she drifted off, unaware that she had scratched the scar in her forearm raw.

Mudblood.

She just wanted to go back to that place where he was dead.

Mudblood…

Finally, like a wave Hermione was pulled into a deep sleep away from all thoughts of Tom Riddle

Blackness claimed her mind and for a moment all she did was drift through the nothingness. Normally she hated the dark, but this was different. Behind her eyelids nothing could hurt her. She was safe

And then suddenly a horrid scream pierces through her mind.

The darkness morphed into gold and white.

And then another screamed filled her mind followed by an angelic boy with blonde curls running from his room.

"did you do this to me, father!? Was it you who made me like this?" the boy screamed as he ran at Nicholas, who wore a long white regal tunic. The design looked reminiscent of a medieval feudal lord.

There was golden blood dripping from both his wrists, which were sliced open.

"You're angry I made you perfect?" Nicholas sneered in a manner that Hermione couldn't have ever imagined the man doing "that I drove disease and decay from your magnificent body? Look around you! How many lives has the plague taken, how many of our friends? And what do you do? Mope and slit your wrists! You're a fool!"

"I don't change! It's been over a hundred years and I'm still no better than a child! I'll never be a man!" the boy was spiting with mad fury "but you didn't do this for me. You did this for YOU! You can lie to yourself, but not to me! You've been using me for that elixir of yours, that's why you lock me away!"

"I lock you away for your own protection! You can't control your magic! Look at what you did to your mother!" Nicholas shouted, rounding on the boy with hellish fury "You created a dark parasitical force from your own magic! Your own self-hatred of your magic did this! It needs to be contained! Had your mother not have taken my elixir, you seem to find so unsatisfactory, she would be dead by your own hands!"

"I don't want to live anymore! I'm sick of living with this darkness! Don't you understand?! I don't want this anymore! I'm unnatural! I should be put to death!"

"You've been reading out of that book, again haven't you?" Nicholas roared, throwing his golden goblet against a tapestry "What have I told you about those Christians? They're mad fanatics! They destroy what they can't understand and call it beautiful! It sickens me!"

"Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live, father." The boy whispered, with a strange hateful calmness "I cannot go on, don't you understand? Won't you try?..I want to die."

"You're a fool, Faulques." Nicholas said sadly.

"and you're the instrument of Satan, but not for long father." Faulques turned on his heel, reaching for his cloak "I'm going to the church. I'm going to tell them everything. Perhaps then I can find forgiveness and even blessed death!"

"You poor child... the Obscurial, you've manifested from your own self-hatred, must be contained… and I cannot allow you to leave, my son…those phoenix feathers are far too precious. I'm sorry, but you've left me no choice. For everyone's protection you must remain in this form.

Before Faulques could apparate away, his father extended his hand. Faulques was thrown into a golden cage which seemed to appear out of thin air.

Faulques eyes became bright and filled with fiery light. His form began to dissolve into a rush of black wispy smoke and magic.

The Obscurial was taking over.

Nicholas threw up wards around the cage. He began tracing runes in the air around his son, who slowly reverted back, containing the Obscurial.

"I hate you!" Faulques screamed as he threw himself violently against the bars "I hate you, father!"

And then the boy shifted into his animagus form.

The phoenix screeched painfully from its cage.

Nicholas turned away from the cage, gold tears streaking down his cheeks.

"Perhaps you are right about one thing, my son." Nicholas quietly, ashamed of himself, yet lacking none of the courage of his conviction "I did do this for me…I cannot die. I cannot allow it."

The Phoenix screeched in torment, trapped behind the bars of his golden cage.

"and so, I will bind you in this form. Eventually your mind will submit to the Phoenix, and then perhaps you will come to appreciate the wizard you had once been… And not hate yourself so."

The phoenix let out a piercing shriek as Nicholas encased his son in a ball of vibrant red light. The light grew brighter as did the painful screeches that came from Faulques.

Except he wasn't Faulques Flamel anymore…he was Fawkes.

Hermione bolted upright out of bed, scrambling back against the headboard.

She had bitten her lip. Gold tinted blood coated her lips, and stained her pillow.

He's trapped, Hermione thought as she ripped her damp sheets off her sweating body, Faulques is trapped, and Nicholas was the one who did it! His own son!

She scrambled out of bed and rushed out of her dorm, thankful that none of the other girls had woken.

She wasn't thinking as she ran past the common room, which reflected green and blue under the water of the lake.

She ran towards the boy's dorms and entered the Seventh-year quarters.

There were five bed that held five sleeping boys. In the back were two beds pushed together that held Ron and Harry, tangled beneath the white sheets.

Hermione shut the door behind herself as she walked past the beds. She stood at the foot of the boy's beds, clutching the emerald drapes almost desperately.

Her heart was still racing, and she couldn't shake the nightmare from her mind.

'the Obscurial, you've manifested from your own self-hatred, must be contained… '

She could still hear Nicholas in her head. His words were like poison, and Hermione wished she could just forget them.

But she couldn't.

And what was an Obscurial?

Hermione didn't realize that she was shaking, or that both Ron and Harry had woken.

She felt their hands lure her into bed.

She felt the blankets tuck snuggly around her chin, and the boys drape their arms protectively over her body.

She gripped onto them and tried to calm down, but all she could do was cry. She cried softly, covering her mouth with her hand and burying her head against Harry's neck.

Eventually, she began to drift off to sleep, unaware of the cold blue eyes glaring at herfrom the opposite bed.

.

A/N— Hermione has just seen her first memory. She bit her lip and saw it through the magic in her blood, which was transferred through Perenelle and Nicholas.

There's more to Tom's 'urges', than just being crazy. He does have something that's wrong with him, and we'll get to that later.

Yes, Faulques (Fawkes) is an Obscurial! I love the idea of the parasite developing in wizards due to self-hatred, and trauma, from trying to suppress their magic. I figure he was born mid 14th century during the time of the black death, and church persecution against Jews and anyone different…I figure he got caught up in the rhetoric…and also Faulques can't handle the thought of eternity.

As for the trio…. they have some attachment issues with one another. Being in the run, not knowing if you were going to die, being tortured, and now stuck in a time where all they have is each other…yeah, they got serious attachment issues.


	6. Of fisticuffs and flying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tom and Hermione fight and fly  
> And run into a familiar little boy

hrough The Cyclone of The Phoenix

Chapter 6

Of Fisticuffs and Flying

.

"But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked.

"Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat: "we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."

"How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice.

"You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here.

Lewis Carroll,

Alice in Wonderland

.

It was end of the second week of school for Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

The Seventh year Slytherin boys knew by this point that trying to separate the trio was pointless.

Most nights Hermione slept between Harry and Ron, and sometimes the trio would go off all night ,and not return until early morning.

Rostislav Lestrange always appeared irritatingly smug when they returned. Hermione often found him lounging in bed. His eyes shone in the darkness, and his deranged smile always reminded Hermione of Bellatrix.

"You know, you don't have to hide." Ros whispered one morning as they returned. His feet were propped against the headboard while his head lolled off the side of the bed so that he was upside down.

The blood rushed to Rostislav's head making his face turn a dark shade of red, and his eyes bulge.

"We purebloods understand better than anyone how sacred our blood is… so, there's no need to hide" Rostislav's unbalanced voice was like honey poured over ice shards.

Hermione was getting worried. The first night she had woken up in the boys bed, she found Tom watching her. His expression was hateful.

It was Saturday of their second week when Hermione woke up to find Tom watching her, again. Most days he was gone before she woke up, some days she found him glaring into open space, but today he was studying her intently.

"Is it common for your brothers to grope your breasts at night, miss Flamel?" Tom asked, twirling his wand.

Hermione looked down to find Harry's hand had slid inside of her nightgown during the night. Her nightgown had been pulled so far down that her entire left breast was exposed, and being held by Harry's hand.

On the other side, Ron had his morning erection pressed against her bottom.

Slowly she detached Harry's hand to cover herself, and sat up.

She shrugged at Toms question, then slid out of bed.

Hermione noticed how intensely Tom was studying Harry. She wondered if Tom could feel their connection. He certainly felt something, which terrified her.

"Get dressed." Tom said grabbing his school robes "I'll meet you in the common room in ten minuets. We can go down to breakfast together."

Hermione was still tired. Her stomach growled earning a smirk from Tom who cocked an eyebrow.

"It's Saturday." Hermione whispered, trying not to wake the boys "Don't you ever sleep in?"

"No." Tom said shortly, turning towards the showers. "but neither do you."

Tom walked into the showers, throwing her one last glare. She could hear the running water, and decided to slip out before the rest of the Slytherin boys began to stir.

She made her way down the steps and through the common room before she stopped short. There was someone was already occupying the common room.

"Nebula?" Hermione whispered causing the small Slytherin girl to jump.

She was sitting at a piano with her fingers caressing the keys when Hermione found her. Her fingers jerked back as if she had been burnt.

Nebula quickly sprung to her feet looking both embarrassed and scared.

She could tell the girl had been crying, and approached her slowly.

"Nebula, what's wrong?" Hermione asked, placing a comforting hand on the small blondes shoulder.

"I didn't know anyone was up, sorry." Nebula Malfoy said in a tiny voice.

"Don't be- you've been crying." Hermione said with concern "Tell me what's going on, Nebula. I know we don't know each other very well, but you can talk to me if you want."

Nebula sat back down on the piano bench, her puffy eyes looking down at the keys.

She seemed so terribly sad, and for a moment Hermione could see a bit of Draco in Nebulas downturned mouth.

She remembered how lonely and sick Draco had looked their sixth year. To think Nebula would be related to him blew Hermione's mind.

"Do you play?" Hermione asked quietly inclining her head towards the piano.

Nebula shook her head. "Father forbids it…says its not ladylike."

"Well, maybe I could teach you how not to be a lady?" Hermione joked good naturedly, wrapping one arm around the small girl.

With the other, Hermione flexed her fingers and began to play a calm melody.

Nebulas eyes widened as she watched Hermione's hand dance across the keys lightly.

The music continued, and as it did Nebula became more and more relaxed.

She leaned her pale blond head against Hermione, her hands gripping her night dress tightly.

"Sometimes … I can't remember things." She confessed in a small dove-like voice as Hermione played

"I black out, and then I wake up in a place I don't remember being. It started my first year, and its only gotten worse. It used to happen once a month…but now its multiple times a week."

Hermione continued playing as she squeezed Nebula to go on.

"and every time I wake up… I have this bad feeling. My body feels like it fell from the Astronomy Tower, and I feel afraid… I'm afraid now."

"Have you told your brother, Abraxas?"

"He said if he heard about it again he would write home to father." Nebula sniffed, rubbing her eyes with the back of her small hand.

"What would he do if he found out?" Hermione asked, resting her cheek against Nebulas white blonde hair.

Nebula breathed in a shaky breath.

"Take me out of school, take me to St. Mungos like he did with mother."

Hermione nodded "Did your mother go through the same situation?"

"Mothers a Black, one of Ori- Lord Blacks aunts." Nebula shrugged as of that explained everything "Madness runs in the Black and Lestrange family. Mother is still at St. Mungo's for killing all those muggles. You probably read about it in the papers…but even before that she was one of Grindlewalds fanatics ."

Hermione thought of Rostislav Lestrange. She thought of his disorganized behavior, his aggression, and agitation to little things. He was hostile towards everyone, hyperactive, and his constant lack of restraint made it difficult to estimate what he was capable of.

Nebula Malfoy was none of these things. If anything she was lonely and needed a friend.

Her mother was locked away for murder, her father was merciless, and her brother…he seemed apathetic, with no problem conforming to a ridiculous and outdated standard of what a pureblood wizard ought to be.

"You're not violent, Nebula." Hermione told the girl truthfully "I don't know you very well, but I don't think you'd deliberately hurt someone. I can tell you're a good person."

"She is." A cool voice said behind them.

"Tom!" Nebula smiled, leaping to her feet. "I was just telling Miss Flamel- I mean Hermione about the thing."

Tom nodded, taking Nebula into his arms and planting a small kiss on the top of her hair.

"I don't want you to worry, sweetheart." Tom consoled the small girl gently "I'm sure we can figure it out. I've been studying occlumency, and I have a firm enough grasp to start teaching you how to clear your mind. Maybe then we can breakthrough these little blackouts."

"you know about this?" Hermione asked, suddenly feeling very cold.

"Toms been really great to talk to." Nebula smiled up at Tom "he's been very nice."

Nice? Perhaps if you compared him to a starved soul sucking Dementor.

"Its no problem at all, you know you can always come to me." Tom patted Nebulas head, looking every part the charming schoolboy.

He almost looked brotherly when he looked down at Nebula, who beamed up at him happily.

Hermione watched their exchange, and for a fleeting moment she believed Tom actually cared for the girl.

"Now, I want you to go back to your dorm ,and take a hot bath. You don't look like you've gotten much sleep, Nebula." He tsked, walking her towards the girls dorm "I want you to rest today, can you do that for me? Or else I'll worry about you all day."

Nebula nodded, she was basking in the brotherly affection given to her, and wrapped her arms around Tom before hurrying up the stairs.

Hermione knew this was all an act. He didn't really care about Nebula. He only cared about one person, and that was himself.

She flexed her fingers remembering how easily he had broke them with his own hands.

"I thought I told you to get dressed." Tom muttered with his back to her. He was still looking up the steps to the girls dorm when he slowly turned to face her.

He was no longer wearing that perfect schoolboy expression. His eyes were cold and his expression was venomous.

"You have two minuets. Go." He snapped

"What's put you in such a foul mood all of a sudden?" Hermione glared right back at Tom.

"I don't like repeating myself." Tom said sharply "and I get irritated when I haven't eaten."

Hermione snorted as she walked past Tom "Ron gets the same way."

He visibly stiffened at the mention of her brother name, but said nothing as she ascended the stairs. Hermione could feel his eyes watching her until she was out of sight.

She released a breath she didn't realize she had been holding.

As she entered her dorm the rest if the Seventh year Slytherin girls were still fast asleep. They all wore eye masks and had their curtains drawn. Apparently, it was acceptable for pureblood ladies to sleep in and takes naps during the day.

Hermione found pureblood practices hilarious. Perenelle taught her how to curtsy, and eat properly within a day, but some things you couldn't teach. Like how all pureblood girls wore their hair in an elegant French twist with the help of their own personal house elf.

They had house elves to help then dress and attend their every need. Perenelle insisted Ron, Harry, and Hermione each take a house elf.

They quickly declined after receiving threatening looks from Hermione.

Quickly, Hermione found her white riding trousers, boots, coat, and riding crop.

She dressed as fast as she could and threw her long curls into a ponytail which swung a few inches above her hips.

As she ran back downstairs and smiled at Tom who gave her a quizzical look.

"So what are your plans after breakfast?" Hermione asked after grabbing his hand in hers.

"I don't think that's any of your concern." He said, staring at their clasped hands. He squeezed it firmly then turned to walk out of the common room into the cold dungeon.

Hermione squeezed his hand back.

"I'm going to see Professor Kettleborn after breakfast. He's taking care of my mother's Winged Abraxans, and I need to pay them a visit. Would you like to come?"

Toms didn't turn around or answer her right away as they made their way towards the Great Hall.

And then he looked over his shoulder and gave Hermione a sharp nod.

"Alright."

When they arrived in the Great Hall there was no one there. Tables were filled with hot food and cold drinks as they seated themselves. Hermione buttered a piece of toast and placed it on Toms plate.

"Why did you hold my hand?" he asked suspiciously, picking his toast.

"Because, your hand is warm and it feels nice to hold." Hermione said

A part of her wanted to take back every word.

In her mind she could see a demonic reptilian face with glowing red eyes. They glared at her murderously, and promised death.

She could see Lord Voldemort, she could hear his high pitched laugh, and smell the scent of blood and decay on his scaly skin.

She blinked.

Tom looked startled at her words. He blinked in surprised confusion before turning back to his toast without a word.

She proceeded to pour him a cup of black coffee, adding exactly five mini chocolate chips and stirred it clockwise four times. She noticed that Tom usually ate the same meal for breakfast everyday, much like Ron and Harry did.

"Thank you." Tom said politely, taking Hermione by surprise.

He actually sounded sincere, then again he always sounded sincere. Hermione could usually see through the act, but this time was different.

"Your welcome," she replied, smiling happily.

He drank his chocolate coffee and sighed with pleasure.

"You know how I take my coffee?" he looked sullen as if a deep dark secret had been revealed.

Hermione shrugged, over her own cup of English Breakfast tea.

"Harry likes cold chocolate milk with a stack of waffles and whip crème. Ron has three cups of orange juice with bacon, eggs, biscuits and gravy. He usually eats a plate of sausage after, roughly 8-10 links." She listed off

"Abraxas take a frittata with an Earl Grey, Orion will either have a slice of ham or buttered croissant with two hard boil eggs, Rostislav eats four whole red apples, and you Tom…you drink a cup of black coffee and add in exactly 5 chocolate chips when you think no one is looking. You stir it clockwise four times, then butter a piece of toast and read the Daily Prophet's political section, and the occasional potion articles."

Tom stared at Hermione as if she had grown a second head. He looked shocked that she had studied his morning habits so closely.

Hermione looked away, but Tom remained staring at her intently. He found himself at a loss for words as he watched her finished her oatmeal.

He didn't like how comfortable she was in his presence, especially since she had seen a piece of his true side.

Why didn't he just obliviate her memory? Why did he continue allowing himself time with her?

Tom didn't understand it himself. He wanted to hurt her, and yet he wanted to spend time with her and watch her.

She obviously hadn't told her brothers about what happened in the library, and yet she didn't seem afraid of him.

"Ready to go?"

To nodded and followed.

They walked through the grounds in silence until they came to a structure that hadn't previously been there.

"Mother insisted they stay here for the year." Hermione explained as they approached the giant golden stables.

"More gold." Tom sneered with distain and a little resentment "Nothing but white and gold when it comes to your family."

"When you have an Alchemist father who can turn any basic metal into pure gold, an excess of wealth tends to happen." Hermione laughed " but I agree. It's a bit much."

"and the white? Outside of your school clothes, you and your brothers dress as if you're about to be dunked under water by a priest." Tom commented, mesmerized at how honest and warm Hermione's laugh was.

"It represents light and goodness, Mr. Riddle!" came a voice from within the stables.

Tom and Hermione jumped at the appearance of Nicholas Flamel, who wore his usual robes of gold.

No matter how much time Hermione spent with Nicholas, his appearance was always impressive. He looked eternal and god like. His skin shined with a translucent gold sheen, his golden curls fell perfectly over his shoulders…all he needed was a laurel crown of gold to look like the perfect Byzantine King.

"Or at least that's what I've told myself for the past 600 years." Nicholas said shinning against the morning light.

Toms eyes widened at Nicholas' confession of his age, but inclined his head respectively "You must be Lord Flamel. Your daughter tells me you're an Alchemist."

"I'm THE Alchemist." Nicholas whispered secretively, his golden eyes sparkling mischievously.

"I'm afraid my education is lacking when it comes to this subject." Tom confessed "Miss Flamel was kind enough to inform me that Uagado is the only Wizarding school which emphasizes Alchemy as a required subject of study."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Yeah, kind enough to be repaid in broken fingers.

Nicholas's golden eyes reflected the morning sunrise as he studied Tom. His expression was closed, but he seemed to be evaluating whether or not to talk about anything regarding Alchemy.

"Unfortunately, such a study takes a lifetime of dedication to achieve any noteworthy discoveries." Nicholas said in an even voice "most will study the magic and chemistry their entire life only to end up dead with nothing to show for it. Its a dying art for a reason. And theirs always a cost to achieving a discovery. Perhaps it should die. Perhaps I will be the last Alchemist, I hope so. Regardless, consider yourself lucky to be lacking in this area of education. The life of an Alchemist isn't one I would wish on my worst enemy."

Nicholas then turned, opening his arms towards Hermione who rushed to embrace him.

Tom smiled politely, but she knew he was seething with rage to be dismissed. His blue eyes narrowed coldly, despite his perfect smile.

Hermione fell against Nicholas, and buried her face into his chest. She didn't want to look at Tom.

It feels nice to be held this way again, Hermione thought sadly.

She didn't realize how much she missed it. She thought of her own father and mother and hugged Nicholas tighter.

"I missed you, Papa." She said quietly, then looked up to see Nicholas smiling broader than she had ever seen him.

She still hadn't approached Nicholas about her dream. She told Ron and Harry about it who also agreed not to bring it up to Nicholas without first finding Fawkes.

None if them had seen the Phoenix since they had fallen, but she had a suspicion about where she could find him.

She looked at the man who had been so loving to her, and wondered how such a gentle man could ever deliberately imprison his own tormented son.

She couldn't imagine being trapped in an animagus form for hundreds of years. Perhaps Faulques had faded away. Perhaps there was only the beast within the Phoenix…Perhaps Faulques didn't exist anymore.

"And I've missed you, my dear child."

There was golden tears in his eyes which he kept from spilling down his cheeks. He looked as if he might purr from sheer happiness.

When she stepped back she noticed Tom looked uncomfortable at the exchange.

"I wasn't expecting to see you." Hermione said stepping back. " Where's Professor Kettleburn?"

"He and the groundskeeper had to make a quick stop at Hogsmeade. Apparently Professor Dippet has decided to hire a your groundskeeper an apprentice." Nicholas asked, pulling a cube of cheese from his golden robes. He popped it into his mouth and sighed happily. "And as for me, don't you remember my saying that I would be coming to train you and your brothers?"

"Yes- sorry of course I remember." Hermione folded her hands behind her back "We've been building up our physical training by running seven miles every day. I'm much slower than Ron and Harry, but I'm gradually improving."

"excellent!" Nicholas clapped proudly "you're toning up well, but you need to be pushed- challenged! Tell your brothers to meet me here tonight. I have a meeting with Headmaster Dippet soon, but I think I'll stop by the Great Hall for some breakfast first!"

Hermione nodded as Nicholas turned on his heel, waving over his shoulder.

"It was a pleasure Mister Riddle, let us lunch sometime this week!" Nicholas called, glancing back at the stables "Have fun with the big boys- and be patient with Styx, he woke up on the wrong side of the bed!"

"Styx?" Tom asked, still staring after the retreating figure of her father.

"My mothers most aggressive Pegasus." Hermione shrugged.

She walked past Tom who was still staring after Nicholas. Her boots made a squishing wet sound against the dewy grass.

She pushed open the large stable door with one hand, beckoning him after her.

Tom was just about to walk past her when Hermione shot out a hand to stop him.

"wait." She said sharply as if recalling something important.

"I don't like being told what to do, witch." Tom leered before banishing his yew wand in her direction. "Defodio!"

Hermione side stepped the flesh gouging curse as if it were the easiest thing in the world. Tom was shocked at her reflexes and shot another curse at her.

"Lacarnum inflamarae!" Fireballs shot out from the tip of Toms wand, but again Hermione was too quick.

Before the flames could reach Hermione, she dropped down and delivered a fantastic kick, which swept Tom's feet out from under him.

Tom recovered quickly and flipped over grabbing Hermione by the back of her hair and ripped it back. He twisted her so that Tom held her in front of his body like a shield. He jammed his wand against her temple, and with the other hand he squeezed her throat as if he meant to suffocate her.

What Tom didn't expect was Hermione slamming the back of her head against his face, smashing it mercilessly.

"You're such a git!" Hermione shouted

He staggered back just in time for Hermione to land a closed fist against the side of his jaw, and knee into his stomach.

Tom was stronger than he looked and recovered quickly. He threw himself at her, and dragged her down until he was straddling her. Tom pinned Hermiones small wrists above her head and bent over so close that their noses almost touched.

"I. Don't. Like. Being. Told. What. To. Do." Tom hissed squeezing her wrists tighter.

Hermione couldn't help it. She began to giggle despite feeling banged up. The situation was too funny

She had just gotten into a schoolyard fisticuff-scuffle with the Dark Lord!

Tom sat up releasing her wrists as she giggled uncontrollably. His expression was unreadable as he stood and offered her a hand up.

"You'll not like having twelve giant Pegasus trampling you to death either, if you don't listen to me." Hermione laughed, wiping her tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes.

"You're so peculiar." Tom commented, as he cleaned the blood from his nose with a quick cleaning spell.

"And you're a control freak." Hermione shot back, looking down at herself in disappointment. "great and now I'm filthy."

"That's what you get for wearing nothing but white." Tom sneered shoving past her. "and what sort of pureblood witch are you? Fighting with boys twice your physical strength. Its shameful."

"YOU started it!"

"and I finished it, brat. Let that me a lesson."

Hermione sighed "Regardless, you overreacted. I was trying to save you from being trampled to death. The least you can do is apologize."

"Never."

"Look, you're not a Flamel. My bloodline is what protects me. If you were to walk into those stables without me, the Pegasus would attack out of self defense… So we're going to have to improvise a little."

"Explain."

"The Abraxans are bonded to my mother as her familiars. They can smell my mothers blood within me, and through that connection I can bond with them as well." Hermione explained "If you tried to capture, tame, or even approach them without that connection…it could be the last thing you ever do."

"I'm sure." Tom smirked as if the idea of anything harming him was laughable "And you have a plan to get me into the stables without being trampled by these beasts?"

Hermione rolled her eyes as if to say, well duh!

"Precisely every 50 minuets your entire body is cleansed of blood through the kidneys." Hermione explained "So we just need to make sure you're far away from Mother's Pegasus by then. It should be fine."

Tom folded his arms over his chest, and glared down at Hermione who refused to flinch. Her once immaculate white clothes were covered in dirt and bits of his blood. Her hair was a mess, and yet her skin was unblemished and glowed like moonlight. Even covered in filth she looked radiant.

"You exasperate me. Now make sense of what you're trying and failing to explain." Tom ordered.

"You need a small amount of my blood within your body." Hermione said as if it were so simple. She took a step closer , then another ,and another.

"Excuse m—!"

She grabbed Tom's robes, biting the inside of her lip, and captured his mouth with hers.

It was if Tom had turned into a living statue and was going into shock. And yet his mouth submitted to Hermione's invasion. In fact it opened invitingly, and allowed her tongue to stroke his in the most intimate way.

He had never felt such a sensation, and even though Tom could taste her copper blood he didn't mind.

He had never allowed a witch to touch him in such a way. He found physical intimacy repulsive and vile.

He found it detestable how often Rostislav bragged about the witches he bedded. He couldn't see the point of it. Snogging, as the others called it, offended Tom to no end. He hated the sight of couples locked in noisy embraces. He hated the heated way they looked at one another.

And yet here he was, enjoying how wicked and sinful it felt to feel Hermione's bloody mouth against his.

Her lips were soft yet dominating.

One minuet they were fighting and throwing punches, the next their lips were locked in the most passionate manner.

And then she pulled away, forcing a feral growl to escape Tom's throat.

He shoved her away so violently that her back hit the stable door hard.

"Don't ever do that again." Tom hissed, wiping his mouth harshly with the back of his hand.

"Don't be such a child." Hermione sighed, opening the stable door "it was necessary. Just let it go."

"Next time you touch me without my permission, I'm going to curse your skin to rot off in your sleep." Tom promised, panting heavily. "So when your brothers wake up holding your rotting body they'll scream in horror, and never want to touch you again."

"Cool your cauldron, Riddle. You didn't mind my holding your hand earlier." Hermione snorted, holding the door open. "And if you think I won't hex you back, you've got another thing coming. I grew up with two brothers, remember? I know how to fight dirty."

Tom strode past her, fighting the urge to touch his lips with the tips of his fingers. Her blood tingled against his tongue and the back of his throat.

It wasn't a bad feeling.

As he rounded the corner he was met with twelve giants. The beasts were three times the size of a normal horse. Their eyes were sharp as they assessed him as determining of they should trample him or not.

"let out a breath." Hermione instructed "do it."

Tom let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. The Pegasus sniffed the air with their flared nostrils and instantly relaxed, except for one.

So this is Styx, Tom thought as the aggressive white Pegasus bucked in its closed off area.

The great Pegasus was warlike in appearance and had scars against his sides and thighs. His silver mane was much more untamed than the others, and fell over the bests ferocious ,deep set eyes.

"Oh Styx!" Hermione gasped running past Tom who refused to take another step towards the savage beast.

"You've been cooped up too long haven't you?" Hermione asked pressing herself against the gold bard. She stretched out her small hand to the beast and for a moment Tom thought the Pegasus would bite her hand off.

Instead, the beasts closed its vicious eyes and bowed to pressed its head against Hermione's hand, which looked smaller than ever.

"You're mad." Tom scoffed at how easily she tamed the beast.

"I just understand him." Hermione said quietly. "Styx is the eldest. He's been through muggle and magical wars. He's a survivor, and one of the last remaining Pegasus in existence…and I think he knows it . It upsets him."

The Pegasus let out a high pitched whine and struck his hoof against the golden bars.

"yes, I think its time for a fly." Hermione smiled, turning to face Tom who leaned against a pillar watching her like a hungry wolf.

Hermione made quick work brushing all the Pegasus and feeding them sugar cubes from her pocket before saddling up Styx. She opened the stable doors for the Winged Abraxans ,who galloped out and shook out their massive white wings.

Styx was the last to walk out.

The beast reared back and flapped his wings so hard that Tom and Hermione had to struggle to keep from falling over. The force of his wings was nothing to scoff at, and Tom found himself admiring the creature.

"Ever fly at 20,000 feet through a cloud?" Hermione said as if she wanted to deliberately provoke him.

He thought she was joking and rolled his eyes.

"Does it look like I make a habit of flying on the backs of animals, like a savage?" Tom retorted causing Hermione to throw her head back and giggled.

It was genuine and lacked any sarcastic viciousness.

"C'mon Riddle, you don't want to pass this up! I promise, you'll have fun."

"You have no idea what I consider fun." Riddle whispered under his breath as he watched Styx kneel before her.

"here—" Hermione straddled herself on the saddle. She offered her small hand to him, and Tom couldn't help look up into her large golden eyes and accept it.

Getting on was more difficult than he thought, and appreciated the effortless way Hermione seemed to handle herself.

"I haven't been riding Styx long, but I trust him, and he trusts me." Hermione said as she reached to position his hands around her hips.

"Hold on, keep your knees firm against his sides, and remember to respect him. Styx is pure muscle and in comparison, our weight is nothing to him."

The beast began trotting. He quickly picked up speed, racing across the grounds, followed closing by his eleven Pegasus whose wings began to stretch and flap.

The sound was incredible, like thunder and wind.

And then their hoofs left the ground, and Tom and Hermione were flying fast through the air.

The Pegasus neighed happily as they spun ,and flew playfully around one another. It was a sensation that was unlike anything Tom had ever felt.

He could feel the absolute power radiating through the creature. It was addicting and the adrenaline rushing through him as Styx flew faster made Tom let go of Hermione's hips.

He held out his arms and threw back his head as they soared higher and higher. The rays from the morning sun caressed his skin, and Tom felt intense excitement.

And then he began to laugh.

He felt lighter and happier than he ever had in his life. A part of him wanted to fight it off, but his pure elation wouldn't allow it.

What is this?

Tom glanced down and saw the silverish-white Pegasus hair. His hands dropped and touched it, stroking it. His smiled faded slightly.

He wanted to keep the blissful rapture he felt, and yet dark thoughts began to dominate him.

His heart clenched, but before he could concentrate anymore on his emotions, he noticed how far up they had flown. They had just broken through the top of a cloud, and were gliding smoothly over the top of it.

Hermione turned and grinned. It was a mischievous impish expression.

Tom didn't like it.

"You know I used to be terrified of heights!" she shouted over the wind "I hated it!"

Tom smirked despite himself, his eyes lit up like blue fire, and Hermione could see what everyone had found so captivating about him.

The wind rose through Hermione's curly hair which began to loosen from her pony tail.

They rose up high above the white clouds.

Hermione had a maddeningly amused look in her golden eyes, but before Tom could understand what it meant she shoved the golden reins in his hands, and stood up.

She stood up on the back of a flying horse, thousands of feet above the earth without a shred of fear.

In fact, she looked rather peaceful, as she lifted her arms out like a bird.

"ARE YOU MAD?!" Tom roared, gripping the reins for dear life.

"Yes!" she laughed.

And then Hermione Flamel did something Tom hadn't expected…

She launched herself off of the winged stallion like a bird freed from its cage, and began to fall over 25,000 feet towards the earth.

Toms heart hammered against his ribcage, and his stomach dropped out from under him.

"FLAMEL!"

Styx whinned, and shot downwards following Hermione's spiraling form. Tom gripped the reins for dear life as they began to fall.

The other eleven Pegasus flew after her, swooping and weaving.

Down

Down

Down

She pinned her arms to her sides and snapped her legs together as she shot like a bullet through a cloud.

They were racing each other.

When Hermione came out the other side she spiraled ,and flipped herself through the space between heaven and earth.

She looked like a falling angel.

Her hair fell out of her pony tail, trailing behind her in the most attractive way.

She was fearless ,and Tom couldn't help but admire her recklessness.

Laughter built up within his chest as they dived at breakneck speed towards the earth.

Then, just when Tom thought one of the Pegasus might slam into her, Hermione reached out and grabbed a handful of the beasts mane.

She threw her leg over the back of the creature, giggling like a lunatic.

Tom couldn't stop staring at her. His heart was still hammering at her near death experience.

She truly was a pest. He shook his head at her slowly, clearly doubting her sanity.

In the distance he could see Hogwarts. It was tiny, but even at this distance his home was a magnificent thing to behold.

Hermione pulled the Pegasus up so that she leveled herself out beside Tom and Styx.

"You're mad ,witch" he said ,shaking his head "absolutely mad. Why must everyone I surround myself with be mad?"

"Because you have a type?" Hermione smirked "or maybe I do?"

"Don't make me push you off."

"Don't tempt me with a good time!" Hermione shot back, giggling happily.

They spent another 30 minuets flying, and racing one another before heading back towards the school.

They were both windblown and high on adrenaline when they landed.

"You look savage." Tom commented at her wild hair and unkempt appearance. "maybe you should sleep in the stables instead of our dorms from now on."

"You're mean." Hermione laughed, grabbing Toms hand as they made their way back to the castle.

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Tom insisted.

Tom didn't notice how tightly their hands were clasped until they almost reached the school.

"I had fun this morning." Hermione said turning to look at Tom with a strange expression.

He said nothing, but turned to face her, stopping in his tracks.

His icy blue eyes darted between both of hers, searching her face for something. A very small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. Hermione had come to understand what it meant and smiled back. He seemed to have had fun as well, but refused to admit it.

Then, just as suddenly as the expression appeared, it vanished.

Tom straitened himself, and pulled his hand away from hers.

"I told you not to touch me without my permission." He snapped coldly.

He turned on his heel and made his way back inside of castle without so much as a backwards glance.

There was something odd about his sudden shift, and Hermione wondered if there was more to it.

"See you later Tom!" Hermione called after him.

His shoulders, and posture stiffened at her words, but he walked on without faltering in his step.

Hermione stood outside for a few moments longer before walking slowly through the courtyard.

She couldn't stop imaging Toms smile. Her heart was racing at this new feeling. It was similar to how she felt about Ron and Harry… but different. She couldn't explain it.

Perhaps she could visit the library for a few hours to get her mind off it. Or go to Hogsmeade with Ron and Harry. She thought about visiting the Astronomy Tower, or even the clock tower. The boys were probably still sleeping.

Lazy bums.

She walked aimlessly through the corridors which gradually began to come to life with fresh faced students, rubbing the sleep from their eyes.

She heard chatter about the Ravenclaw vs Hufflepuff Quidditch match, which was scheduled for later that afternoon.

She passed giggling girls gossiping. She made her way through a gaggle of fourth year boys who stared at her dreamily, and blushed as they caught her eye.

She wasn't paying attention to her surroundings when suddenly a small body tripped into her.

"Hey—" She yelped, flailing her arms out like some sort of dysfunctional bird.

And then Hermione fell backwards taking the small first year boy with her. Their bodies hit the ground causing Hermione to curse under her breath.

The boy groaned, rubbing his bruised knee, as Hermione untangled herself and stood.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

The boy looked startled to have run into her, his turquoise eyes widened in fear. For a moment she studied the skittish boy, and wondered why he looked so familiar.

Instantly, she though of Neville Longbottom, and offered the boy a gentle smile and a helping hand, which he gladly took; looking both contrite and embarrassed.

"s-sorry!" the boy stuttered, shifting from foot to foot. "I was running late- my friends- um- sorry!"

"Relax, its okay. Accidents happen!" Hermione laughed, dusting off the boy's dark jumper he wore over a knitted sweater "I get like that sometimes when an idea hits. I don't know how many people I've knocked over in my life trying to get to a library!"

The boy seemed to relax slightly.

"Thanks for being so nice about it." The boy smiled, blushing under his long lashes.

"No worries, so where are you headed?" Hermione asked curiously wondering what house he was in.

"Hogsmeade!" the boy said happily "usually first years aren't allowed to go until their third year, but my best friend, Lynall Lupin says he's found a secret passage that leads striate to Honeydukes! Its going to be so much fun!"

Hermione smiled brightly, knowing exactly which passage he meant. Harry had used it during his third year after the Dursleys refused to sign his permission form.

She had grown to become much more lenient when it came to rules, and didn't mind if it was innocent enough.

"Well then I shouldn't keep you any longer," Hermione winked down at the boy who smiled brightly.

"Thanks for being cool about it. Most upper classmen would've hexed me for tripping them , and then told on me for trying to sneak into Hogsmeade." The boy said, biting his lip "What was your name, again? I know you're a Flamel."

"Oh, sorry its Hermione, like Her-My-Own-ee" she enunciated.

"Wow, even your name is pretty!" the eleven year old boy declared, nodding in approval.

"Thanks kid." Hermione reached down to ruffle the boys light brown hair.

"Well thanks again Hermione, I hope we can be friends!" the boy skipped off happily, then waved over his shoulder at her.

"Absolutely!" she called after the boy who turned again as if remembering something important.

"Almost forgot! I'm Fenrir by the way!" the boy called back at her "Fenrir Greyback!"

.

A/N— yep.

So what do you think of little innocent Fenrir?

Review and tell me what you've enjoyed about this fic so far!


	7. Blood Curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hermione breaks down

Through The Cyclone of The Phoenix

Chapter 7

Blood Curse

He hated her.

That's all there was to it.

He absolutely hated her.

A few years ago Tom took it upon himself to study the girls in his classes. He studied them as they walked and talked. He studied their breasts ,and legs ,and mouths. But he never felt anything akin to what he felt when staring at her.

Hermione Jean Flamel

She must have bewitched him somehow.

She belonged in Hell.

Perhaps he could send here there himself.

No! It doesn't have to be this way. She's seen your darkness, and still she offered you a smile. You broke her fingers, and yet she took your hand without hesitation.

She called you 'the devil incarnate', after you broke her fingers. She called you sick…

But I am sick.

No…I am beyond understanding, but that doesn't make me wrong.

Something is wrong though, you've always known it.

Remember Billy Stubbs? You argued with him over chores at Wools. You became angry. You took his pet rabbit and hung it in the dinning hall!

Mrs. Cole always caned me. She loved to beat the wickedness out of me. Billy wanted to see me punished. He deserved to be punished.

Billy watched it struggle, and strangle to death. The animal made such pathetic sounds, and Billy cried for days.

No sane 5 year old does things like that. And what the things you've done since then?

Something is wrong…

Tom rubbed his chin. He still had the crescent shape marking from Hermione's fingernails digging into his chin.

She had more power in the flick of her finger than most witches did in their whole body. He remembered how easily she brought him to his knees with a simple gesture.

Tom placed his hands behind his head and sighed.

He couldn't believe the morning he had. It was so out of character for him, and yet he couldn't stop thinking of her.

He had never known anyone like her, and despite the wall he put up around himself...

She found a crack and slithered her way under his skin.

Her mischievous smile, her wild hair blowing in the wind, her fearless body launching through the sky.

And her laughter…

She's the only light I've ever known, that has to count for something…

That Tom actually admitted he was attracted to Hermione Flamel, and enjoyed watching her, only proved how disgusting she really was.

And how weak he was…

He stood in his dorm examining his reflection in one of the floor length mirrors lining the walls. Everyone else had gone down to get ready for the Quidditch match, which meant he could have a few hours of peace.

He stared at his reflection with a scowl.

He looked like his father, his filthy muggle father.

Sometimes he hated it.

And sometimes it was his greatest weapon.

What a strange illusion beauty was. And how strange that humans see beauty as goodness. Such fools!

Yes, even angels in heaven would throw themselves into Hell for me.

He pulled in his prey with a curl of his lips, a flicker of an eye, a wave of his hand. His beauty was his greatest weapon, and his greatest curse.

His black hair curled softly, parted neatly to the side. His pink cupids bow curled into a cruel smile.

There was a darkness behind his eyes that had grown, as his Horcruxes had grown.

Her golden eyes flashed in his mind.

Hermione Flamel.

She was unlike anyone he had ever known. She was fearless, and reckless, and beautiful.

And she saw him for what he was. He threatened her, cursed her, and fought her, yet she remained bright and full of good humor.

Tom recalled how her body twisted through the sky, as she launched herself off the Pegasus.

It wasn't until he felt a pulsating in his cock, that he began to feel disgusted, and utterly sick.

He wasn't like the rest of those hormonal teenage boys, rutting against the first girl who batted a lash.

He thought of Rostislav Lestrange bedding a different girl every other day. It was repugnant and unsanitary, and yet Tom was... curious.

He didn't know where these feelings were coming from. He certainly hadn't felt such things while he had watched her sleep in their dorm.

It was like finding his equal.

Something triggered within Tom. He felt an irrational unquenchable fury, and he needed release.

He hate seeing her sleeping between her brothers. It made him furious whenever he looked over to see her nestled in their arms.

She didn't belong to there… and she didn't belong to them.

He felt the familiar urge flare within his chest, spreading like fire. His hands shook as he ran his fingers through his hair. He needed to inflict exquisite pain. He needed to release whatever this human feeling was that made him weak.

His own mother; poor, stupid, ugly Merope Gaunt had given in to her lustful weakness, and look where it got her?

Dumb fucking cunt

No, he wasn't like them, he was above such human weaknesses. He needed to fix this and refuse to acknowledge Hermione Flamel.

He seethed with rage ,that Hermione and her brothers could have wiggled their way into everyone's good graces, in less than two weeks.

He wouldn't let that witch ensnare him.

At the end of the day she was just another pureblood to collect.

Tom had a plan for his life.

Ever since Professor Slughorn told Tom about Horcruxes, Tom knew what he was meant to become. He already had two under his belt, but that wasn't enough.

He first read about Horcruxes in Magick Moste Evile.

'Of the Horcrux, wickedest of magical inventions, we shall not speak nor give direction…'

It was vague, but that was enough to spark an interest in Tom.

Why was it considered so wicked that the author dared not give an explanation? Why was it invented in the first place?

In another book, Tom found in Nocturne Alley's 'Rare Tombs of the Loste Arts', he read that a wizard from ancient Greece had created it. In 'Secrets of The Darkest Art', he read more about that wizard- Herpo the Foul was his name. He was the first wizard to create a Horcruxe. He was also the first wizard to hatch a Basilisk, the second being Salazar Slytherin.

Tom remembered the words Slughorn had spoke to him—

"A Horcrux is the word used for an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul... Well, you split your soul, you see, and hide part of it in an object outside the body. Then, even if one's body is attacked or destroyed, one cannot die, for part of the soul remains earthbound and undamaged."

Slughorn went on to explain that most would find death preferable to living with a fractured soul.

Tom studied his reflection carefully…Good thing I'm not most.

He recalled a passage from The Fundamental Laws of Magic-

'To tamper with the deepest mysteries — the source of life, the essence of self — only if prepared for consequences of the most extreme and dangerous kind…''

Breaking his soul seemed to dwarf in comparison to living forever. Damn the consequences, and damn anyone who stood in his way.

He quickly dismissed his hormonal thoughts of the Flamel girl as an affliction he needed to cure.

Suddenly, a low hissing from beneath Tom's bed, jerking him out of his thoughts.

Ah, there she is.

He strode towards his bed and knelt, he extended his hand and waited patently.

"Massssster, isss that you?" hissed a low silky voice from the shadows.

"Ahish, come to me." Tom beckoned the snake.

Ahish slithered from beneath the shadows of the bed. Her grey body crawled up Toms hand, wrapping securely around his forearm.

The European Adder raised its head to meet Toms eyes, and bowed her head slightly.

"The Vampire hasss ssent a messsage, Massster!" Ahish hissed, as she slithered further up Toms arm till he perched himself comfortably around his neck. "he wissshes to meet you tonight in the Forbidden Foressst, he alssso asksss for a gift to be presssented. For the honor of meeting him."

"Of course he does," Tom scoffed, raising an perfectly arched eyebrow "vampires are such prima donnas. But a small price to pay for . Is that all Trocar requests?"

"He asksss for an innocent." Ahish replied causing Tom to let his mouth turn up at the corner.

His smile was bitter as he stood, and allowed Ahish to slither off his neck, and down his arm.

Just then the door to the boys dorm opened. Ursa Avery drew back his hood and shut the door behind him, immediately falling to one knee.

"My Lord, might I speak with you?" Ursa asked in a slow deliberate tone that meant he was serious.

"rest for now, Ahish." Tom hissed, allowing the European Adder to slither on top of his duvlet, before turning to face Avery.

Ursa narrow eyes flickered up at Tom as he was bid to rise and come forward.

Tom thought of all his followers. Ursa was the most enigmatic and cruel. His expression, though stoic, secretive, and self contained, was never one of false pleasantries. That itself caused Tom to respect the pureblood more than the others.

"So speak, Ursa." There was a grim curl to Toms lips, as he sat himself at the edge of his bed, crossing his ankles over one another.

"My Lord, it concerns the Flamel's." said Ursa measuredly. "It is something I have witnessed, and have waited until now to share with you. I wanted to be sure my suspicions were correct before coming to you."

Tom leaned forward, a fierce look of interest replacing his bored expression.

"You've been following them?" Tom asked, his tone was almost languid. "How interesting you must find the trio, Ursa. So tell me, what have you found so interesting that you've kept it from me for so long?"

Ursa narrowed his eyes, smiling sadistically.

"The trio are involved with one another, my Lord…in a most carnal, and libidinous manner." Ursa smiled heinously "if it were shared kisses between siblings, I might not have bothered you at all…but this Is beyond the usual pureblood custom. You could say the practice is positively medieval."

"what have you seen?" Tom hissed with slow, deliberate cadence. He sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He could feel a dangerous emotion bubbling beneath the surface of his skin.

"I had my suspicions from the start, and with the trio coming from an ancient pureblood line, I was not surprised at how close they were." Avery said, lowering his contemptible voice "but as I was harvesting potion ingredients from the Forbidden Forest, one morning, I saw Ronald and Harry Flamel. The red head was angry- jealous about something, and carried his sister into the forest. The brother with the lightening scar seemed elated."

"If this is all you mean to tell me—"

"They tore off her clothes and fucked her." Ursa interrupted, baring his wolfish teeth "The fucked her against a dead tree – at the same time, and what's more… she seemed to enjoy every moment of it."

When Ursa Avery looked up he suddenly wished he had not. Toms eyes glowed blood red. He'd never seen his Lord look so angry before. Avery held his breath as Tom stood and approached him.

Ursa was completely emotionless as he watched Tom disappear, and Lord Voldemort resurface.

He hoped whatever was going to happen would happen quickly.

"You …watched her?" Tom said in a deadly silent tone. " You saw her?"

His words were whispered, but penetrated right through Avery. Toms burning red eyes seemed to almost bleed with rage.

"My Lord?" Avery didn't understand why Voldemort was so angry.

"You. Saw. Her…" His voice was suddenly much more gentle than Avery expected.

And then Toms pale bone like wand was pointed at his right eye.

"oculi arderent igni" Tom whispered almost lovingly as the white hot spell hit Avery.

Ursa arched his back as an inhumane, blood curdling scream ripped from his throat.

His right eye began to boil and sizzle. And then a moment later it swelled and burst out of his skull in a splatter of blood and gore.

Avery continued to scream on the floor, withering in pain as he clutched the hole where his right eye had once been.

"consider this a mercy." Tom knelt at Avery's side, trailing the tip of his wand down the boys spine.

"M-my Lord! WHY?!" Avery cried, as he tried scrambling away from Tom.

Tom stared numbly into the bloody face of the boy he grew up with, and had known since he was eleven years old.

Avery had never cried in front of Tom before. Now, however, the boys entire body shook with sobs, and he seemed unable to do anything but moan and cry.

Tom sneered down his nose in disgust. Again, he pointed his wand at Avery, who filched back violently.

"Obliviate!" Tom hissed.

Avery was thrown back, and for the next half hour Tom invaded the sandy-haired boy's mind. He rearranged the events so that it appeared as if Avery had caused a potions accident, trying to brew in the boys showers while everyone was at the Quidditch match.

After Tom threw a stunner at Avery, he gathered potion ingredients from the boys potions trunk.

He levitated Avery to the bathroom where he deposited ingredients into a silver cauldron.

Tom created a potion equivalent to the blood boiling curse, but instead of adding pixi wings to balance the serum, he threw in a handful of Asian Dragon Hair.

Tom cast a protective barrier around himself as the potion exploded.

He didn't look back as he left the bathroom, but instead headed down to the Great Hall for a quick lunch.

He had too much to think about, and to his surprise, the vampire Trocar, was the least of his worries.

Tom sat staring out into open space. He could feel his heart hammering against his chest. His head was pounding from the blood rushing to it. His hands began to shake as they always did when his 'urges' crept up.

You should have known what they were… filthy purebloods further their lines with incest and disease.

And Hermione…that she enjoyed having her brothers fuck her….

Tom felt something inside of him rip apart. He wanted it out- he wanted to rip out the essence that made him human and destroy it.

And she had the nerve to call you 'sick', while she stood on her pedestal looking down on you…

Tom's stomach churned as he attempted to swallow down his goblet of water.

He needed a release.

Some how, even though he hated the know-it- all whore, a small part of him wanted her to himself.

The idea that Hermione enjoyed what should've been repulsive, made his desire her even more senseless.

He didn't know how to feel, and yet he needed a release.

Avery was only a start, but this called for something…sweeter.

Toms eyes found the little blonde at the end of the table and smirked.

Yes, that should do nicely.

After lunch, he waited outside the Great Hall. The little Malfoy girl was all by herself, as usual. She made her way towards the dungeons.

He noticed her pale blonde hair was not twisted elegantly at the nape of her neck, like she usually wore it. Today, Nebula's pale blond hair hung lose, and made her appear even younger than usual.

Her cream colored frock was both modest and pristine. Nebula walked with head held high, and expression blank. She looked like a baby playing woman.

Tom spelled his shoes not to make a sound, and kept his breathing even.

When Nebula was close enough to the abandoned girls bathroom, Tom pointed his pale yew wand at her back.

"Imperio" he breathed as a purple light shot out of his wand and hit Nebula Malfoy in the center of her back.

Walk into the girls bathroom.

Nebula diverted from her path towards Slytherin house and made a sharp turn left down a wide corridor.

Go inside and lock the door behind you.

She was panicking now , and hyperventilating. Her little hands shook as she opened the bathroom door. Tom had to admit she was strong for a twelve year old. He could tell she was trying to fight off the curse.

Tom followed close behind and slipped into the bathroom behind the small girl.

He made quick work blocking the toilets, just in case Myrtle was lurking around the U-bend. When he was done, Tom walked out of the stalls and took Nebula by the hand. He lead her towards the porcelain sinks.

He stretched out his hand and focused on the snake carving on the side of the sink.

"Open for me." Tom hissed in Pausaltongue.

The sinks unhinged themselves, and slid back until a large opening appeared.

Come, Tom commanded Nebula, who now stood inches from the bottomless hole.

"You might be wondering why I'm doing this," Tom whispered, caressing the side of Nebulas baby soft cheek with his thumb. "You might think about appealing to my good nature, or begging me to let you go. But you should know something, sweetheart…"

He bent forward, planting a gentle kiss on the side of her head.

Her clear blue eyes, wide with unadulterated fear, stared at him, blinded with tears of betrayal.

Tom smirked down at the girl, lacing his hand through her pale blonde hair, drawing her closer to his face.

"I've had one hell of a day."

Then, he stepped back, and kicked Nebula as hard as her could in the chest, sending her small body banging and tumbling down the pipe and into The Chamber of Secrets.

Tom's mouth curled into a fiendish grin as he followed her down the pit as if they were descending into hell itself.

.

Hermione didn't know how long she had been sitting inside of the clock tower. She watched the giant cogs turn against one another, and heard the kong of another hour pass.

She could see everything from up here. The Forbidden Forest looked so green and lush, the Lake glittered, and everywhere she looked life blossomed. It was a serene picture.

Hermione closed her eyes, and when she opened them a very different vision appeared.

The grounds were on fire. Bodies littered the courtyard, and floated facedown in the lake.

Giants picking up screaming students by their limbs ,and were literally tearing them in half.

An army of Inferi swarming like ants, Acromangulas devouring professors, werewolves mauling young girls…

Blood.

So much blood.

Hermione slid down to the floor, her arms embracing her knees that she had drawn to her chest. Her body rocked itself forwards and backwards in a helpless attempt to calm herself.

However, the visions wouldn't stop.

Screams filled her ears and Hermione gasped. Her body trembled, and before she could come to her senses, she saw another vision.

Little Fenrir smiling brightly as he fell against her. He raised his head to meet her eyes and suddenly the eleven year old boy is gone. In his place, a 200 pound bloodthirsty werewolf appeared, digging his claws into her flesh, and ripping off her clothes.

"Just a small bite!" he laughed, reeking of blood.

And then Fenrirs face fades and Voldemort is staring down at her, smiling demonically.

"You've fought valiantly but in vain, mudblood…and you lose…everything!"

Voldemort's reptilian face smoothed itself and suddenly a beautiful dark haired boy is smiling down at her. His blue eyes are seductive and calculating.

"You know you can't stop me, but it'll be fun to see you try, love."

Love…

"Love?...Mione!" a familiar voice cried, through her hallucinations.

"Hermione! Oh Merlin- come on love- its alright…bloody hell- Harry keep her hands away from her face!" Hermione could feel her fingernails digging into her eyes as if she were trying to claw them out.

"Relax love, breath for me! Breath!"

Ron and Harry wrestled with her until they had her pinned down. She struggled against them, delirious in her own hell. She screamed and fought and cried as she relived her worst nightmare.

She felt as if she were falling…

She heard a loud shattering of glass and then—

SMACK!

Harry didn't know what else to do. He struck Hermione as hard as he could, afraid he would lose her.

Finally, Hermione fell against the floor limply, releasing one long shuddering breath. Ron and Harry collapse with her and tighten their embrace around her.

She looked up and saw that she had shattered the glass face of the clock. Her wandless magic had inadvertently blown out the windows, and pieces of glass lay scattered everywhere.

Ashamed of her own weakness, Hermione threw her arms over her face and cried silently. She wished she were alone, she didn't want them to see he like this.

"Mione, what happened?" Harry panted, reaching around to dry her tears with the cuff of his white sleeve.

Hermione let out a shaky breath ,and drew away from their embrace.

She sat up, and lifted her right hand to see it was trembling. She pitched the bridge of her nose. When that failed to help calm her, Hermione rubbed her face vigorously to return some sort of sensation of reality.

She was numb with shock at what had just happened. She had nightmares and flashbacks, but never to this level.

It felt so real, as if the battle was alive and well. For the first time since the war she had come face to face with her own trauma that mind could no longer deal with.

She couldn't feel. She couldn't act. She couldn't think.

"I'm sorry." She whispered weakly.

She could smell Ron's distinct scent of freshly mowed grass and peppermint. He hands grabbed her by the waist and held her against him.

His mouth kisses her and Hermione finds herself involuntarily giving in. Its only a second before she realizes what shes doing and struggles away from him.

Ron jerks her closer and she can feel his cock hardening against her.

She shoves him even harder, breaking the kiss. Again he leans foward, but this time Harry places a hand on his shoulder to stop Ron.

"Stop it…I can't- I don't want to do this. Not after…Please stop Ron!" Hermione sobbed, pounding her small fists against his chest.

Abruptly, Ron releases Hermione who cries out in shock, nearly falling to the floor.

Shocked at his own lack of self control, when Hermione was so distraught, Ron pulled away. He raised his large hands in surrender, blinking rapidly.

"I…I'm sorry." Ron panted breathlessly "I shouldn't have done that. I'm so sorry, love."

"Stop calling me that!" Hermione shouted, tearing at her long hair.

Ron and Harry stepped back as her magic began to crackle dangerously.

"I'm not you love! I don't belong to either of you!" she screamed as the clock tower began to shake violently "I'm sick of this- whatever this is between us! I'm done letting you both take me any way you want! And I'm done wanting you to!"

Hermione gulped, feeling hopeless tears leak from the corners of her eyes.

Feeling the floorboards begin to shift, Hermione released a breath and sank to her knees.

Every muscle in her body felt stretched and burned. She felt as weak as ever and every movement was met with protests.

After another moment the tower stilled and her magic calmed.

Ron kept his distance, clenching his fists at his sides.

"What did you see?" Harry asked after a moment.

Her pale face paled even more, as she closed her eyes and shook her head.

"the final battle?" Ron asked, reaching out hold Harrys hand, as if he were trying to control himself.

Hermione didn't acknowledge Ron's question, she didn't have to for him to understand.

"We all see things," Ron sighed, carding a hand through his fiery red hair "We're haunted and all we can do is learn and cope…I guess that's all we've ever done, but its better than giving up."

Hermione nodded, then froze remembering her earlier encounter.

"I met him, Fenrir." She whispered, staring at the shattered face of the clock tower.

"in your flashback?" Ron asked sympathetically.

Hermione stared at Ron for a long moment. The silence that grew began to sink in for both Ron and Harry who scrambled to their feet, yanking Hermione with them.

"Where?" Ron demanded, taking her by her elbows.

This time Hermione did not fight his touch, but she didn't welcome it either.

She wished her body didn't scream for need, every time they touched her. She wished she didn't desire their bodies to crawl on top of her and fill the emptiness that haunted her.

I wish I hated it.

But I don't.

Hermione wished she were alone so she could claw at her face. Shee wanted to make herself hurt for every sexual thing she had ever done with them. She wanted to punish herself. And she felt she needed to be punished for wanting to continue it.

Gods, she felt so empty…

"Tell us where he is Mione." Harry said ,in a tone that promised retribution.

Hermione couldn't help it, she laughed ,and tore herself away from them.

"So what? You can kill an eleven year old boy whose worse sin is sneaking into candy shops?" Hermione laughed a weak sad laugh.

She waved her hand over the shards of glass littering the floor. One by one they levitated ,and flew towards the windows were they sealed themselves together.

"Eleven?" Ron muttered quietly, meeting Harry's wide golden eyes.

"He's a first year." Harry confirmed looking both lost and conflicted. "just a kid."

It was a simple kind of silent horror that fell between the trio. Hermione wrapped her arms around her middle.

"He ran into me, I didn't even know it was him." Hermione's voice had taken on a dark deliberate coloration "I smiled and dusted him off. And he smiled right back up at me… I think this is what the Sorting Hat meant."

"what do you mean?" Ron questioned, moving to stand by Hermione "What did that old rag tell you?"

"It told me I had a darkness in me that would decide the future," Hermione answered Ron who flinched at her words "It told me I had the power to surpass the Dark Lord in every way… it also told me there was more than one life in the balance, and that through our choices we could save more than one life that hung in the balance."

"You're not dark, Mione. I know what darkness feels like, I've seen it. I live with it every goddamn day with Riddles evil thoughts swarming around in my head!" Harry shouted, causing Hermione to flinch.

His eyes flickered blood red for an instant, and then it was gone.

"our connection is getting stronger…and right now I can feel him hurting someone. He loves it, feeds off it like a leech. YOU are not dark ,Mione and you'll never give into it." Harry shut his flickering red eyes ,and when he opened them his eyes reverted back to its usual golden color.

"Sometimes I do though." Hermione confessed, remembering the pleasure she felt at casting the Crucio on Tom in the library. "and after Greyback ran off to find his friends, all I wanted to do was kill that little boy. I followed him. I was going to do it…but then I saw how he hugged his friends. I saw how happy he was at the thought of sneaking out ,and enjoying his Saturday- like any normal boy would. Then I thought of the both of you. How you were when you were eleven…and I just couldn't do it. So I came here."

"You think Greyback is one of the lives we're meant to save?" Harry asked in disbelief. "First Riddle, now Greyback?"

Hermione nodded reluctantly. She felt broken; humiliated which coexisted with a need to save those who would otherwise be lost.

Ron, on the other hand turned away from Harry and Hermione. He was stiff and cold.

"So what?" he muttered clenching his large fists. "We just give everyone a free pass? Offer redemption to every evil fuck who destroyed our world?!"

"Ron—"

"Shut up Harry!" Ron roared, spinning in his heel to face them "I'm sick of giving second chances! Greyback is a sick, bloodthirsty rapist whose only pleasure is infecting children with lycanthropy, and tearing girls to shreds! I'll never forgive him for what he did to Hermione, or Remus, or my own fucking brother! Bill didn't deserve to be infected! And if you don't want to kill the bastard- I will!"

Hermione raised her hand to stop Ron, but was thrown back by an invisible force into Harry who caught her before she could hit the ground. Ron raised his wand again, but Hermione was quicker.

Her index finger twitched just a fraction, so slightly that it appeared as if it hadn't moved at all. Mid-spell Ron began to gag, and clutch at his throat. His wand fell to the floor with a clatter. his mouth worked to form words, but so sound came out.

"I decide the boys fate!" Hermione screamed at Ron, pounding a fist to her chest. She was in no fit mood to allow him to comtinue being a prat. "He destroyed me- he ruined every inch of me! So I say what's to be done with him- not you Ronald! And I say we make damn sure he doesn't become the werewolf we remember!"

Hermione's finger twitched again causing Ron to fall onto one knee, gasping for air.

Harry ran to Ron's side, but Hermione wasn't finished. She took a step towards them. There was a short silence.

Finally, Hermione crouched down, pointing her finger between Ron and Harry.

"Lay one finger on the boy, and I'll make sure you lose it permanently," Hermione said quite mildly "do I make myself clear?"

Obediently, and with no hesitation Ron and Harry nodded.

"Good!" Hermione said, offering a hand to both of them "Now get up. I have a progress report to give you on Riddle."

"They get scary when they get older," Ron muttered to Harry who snickered under his hand until he noticed how filthy Hermione's white clothes were.

Upon closer inspection he became aware of dark flecks covering her riding jacket.

"Mione?...Why do you have blood on your clothes?" Harry asked, pulling away from Ron who shoved past for a closer inspection.

"Oh, don't worry, it isn't mine." Hermione explained offhandedly "I head butted Riddle, and gave him a sound thrashing before we went flying. It was actually a really lovely morning, all things considered."

Ron looked as if Hermione had finally lost it. Harry nodded before turning face Ron without a trace of surprise.

"You're right…they do get scarier."

.

Harry was piggybacking comfortably on Ron's back as the trio made their way down the moving staircases.

"I can't believe you made him laugh." Harry said sucking on a Acid Pop, he draped his arm over Ron's muscular shoulder.

Ron nodded in agreement, looking quite content carrying Harry around.

"He has this guard he keeps up, like a hundred foot impenetrable wall." Hermione tried to explain, skipping two steps at a time "Its like he's afraid to let go. And when he recognizes his vulnerability, he throws up the wall and pushes everyone away…violently."

"Should we tell Dumbledore?" Harry asked "His plans may be flawed, but his intentions are good. Maybe he can give us some insight."

"Fuck him." Ron said with distain, earning a sharp look from Hermione.

"Well why not?" She shot back "Remember, he had a close relationship with Gellert Grindlewald. He was a Dark Lord, and Albus still loved him—"

"And according to our history, Dumbledore also defeated him in battle! Later this year, actually." Ron said, tightening his hold on Harrys thighs "Sounds like he had the right idea to me!"

"The time I've spent with Riddle has me suspicious that there's something wrong with him." Hermione thought out loud.

"uh, yeah." Harry commented "obviously."

"No, I mean…when I look at him, I can almost see a distinct split personality. Or rather a personality he's fighting against and losing to." Hermione clarified.

"I think I understand." Harry said, then gasped as of he recalled something important "wait! When my connection to Riddle flared up, I often feel it like a tug-a-war. I dunno how to explain it exactly. I feel this desperate emotion that craves power and cruelty. It desires everything that's the opposite of love and happiness."

"Craves? Desires?" Hermione stopped on the steps as it began to change.

"Sounds like the insane Dark Lord we've always known, to me." Ron sighed.

"But sometimes I can almost hear another voice through the connection. Its faint, and most of time incoherent." Harry explained, taking the acid pop out of his mouth "but sometimes I feel like its pleading against the other side of him that hates."

"The side that hates, and the side that pleads." Hermione thought aloud "I'll need to research possible theories, and speak with Professor Dumbledore."

"You might know whats wrong with him?" Ron asked, as he took Harry's Acid Pop away from him and tossed it over his shoulder. "I figured he was just crazy."

"Hey!" Harry pouted as he watched his lollipop shatter on the marble steps.

"Only theories." Hermione shook her head " nothing conclusive."

"My candy." Harry whinned, biting Ron's earlobe as punishment.

"Ouch! Cut it out Harry! You know how I feel about those things!" Ron snapped, swatting Harrys thigh firmly "Fred and George gave me one of those things when I was three, and it burned a huge hole through my tongue! Couldn't eat for weeks! Mum had to force feed me nourishment and healing potions for a month!"

Harry stuck out his tongue ,and crossed his eyes to see if he had burned a hole in his tongue.

"Don't worry, you'd know if you had a hole in it…" Ron paused, then smiled wickedly "and later, so would I."

Hermione smiled to herself as she watched Harry kiss the side of Ron's neck tenderly.

This was how things were suppose to be

When the trio reached the ground floor their feet carried them towards Transfiguration Class 1B, around the Middle Courtyard. Dumbledore's office was located in The back of the class through a hidden door.

Hermione remembered the location where she had her private lesions with Professor McGonagall.

When they entered the classroom, which was surrounded by high windows, they noticed something in the corner of the room.

Next to several cages and bookshelves, stood a tall golden perch.

And on the perch sat Fawkes, staring at the trio curiously.

Several candlesticks were lit behind the perch, creating a comfortable warmth.

Harry slipped from Ron's shoulders and was the first to approach.

Fawkes raised his head higher, recognizing Harry immediately. He let out a happy trill as Harry reached out his slender hand to stroke the creatures black beak.

"Ello Fawkes, I missed you. And we have some news…" Harry whispered, earning confused look from Fawkes. "Mione figured it out, about you I mean!"

Harry turned to Hermione, beckoning her closer. She bit her lip, unsure how to phrase what she wanted to say… would Fawkes even understand?

"Fawkes," Hermione began, staring into the Phoenix's golden eyes "Or may I call you Faulques?"

The Phoenix gave no indication of understanding, he merely stared at her without blinking the way birds of prey often did.

"I know that Faulques Flamel is who you really are. I know that you're trapped in this form, and I know it was your- our father who did this to you." Hermione said gently, pausing to study Fawkes.

The Phoenix slowly lowered his head, as if gesturing for her to continue.

"That's really him then, isn't it?" Ron breathed behind them, incredulously.

Harry stepped back to stand by the red head, slipping his hand in Ron's.

"I saw you in my dream…or rather, a memory. I think it has to do with the blood ritual we went through with your parents….our parents." Hermione rattled off "In my dream you were human. You were tormented by your own magic and from your agony you manifested an Obscurus…I'm still trying to research more about the subject, but essentially it's a destructive and unstable force that is centered around trauma. Faulques, I want to help you, but I need to know if you still feel the same way about magic as you did all those years ago."

She watched Fawkes slowly shut his golden eyes. He looked sad and conflicted, but in the end he raised his scarlet head and shook it slowly.

"You don't?" Hermione smiled with tears of happiness in her eyes "That's wonderful! I'm so glad, and yet I'm also sad that you had to endure so many years trapped in this form."

Fawkes gave an indignant squawk of resentment, and flapped his magnificent wings.

Hermione held up her hands and took a step back "Sorry! I didn't mean to insult you! I just meant….I mean, don't you want to be a wizard again?"

Fawkes stared at Hermione for a long time before finally nodding slowly. He seemed to want to communicate more, but was unable to.

"What about sending us back fifty years, then?" Ron demanded.

Harry squeezed Ron's hand which instantly calmed him.

"I'm sorry, but I need to know why." Ron said, even tempered "we deserve an explanation."

Fawkes stared at Ron, then slowly shifted his gaze towards Dumbledore's desk at the front of the class.

Hermione's head snapped to the desk. She crossed the distance and noted the many silver handled drawers .

"Which one?" Hermione asked herself.

She waved her hand in front of them.

"Revelio" She murmured.

Hermione watched as one of the bottom drawers began to glow.

She began stripping the wards around it, and found it harder than she expected. After another minuets, Hermione fell to her knees, panting.

The drawer unlocked ,and popped open. Inside lay a single iron clad book.

Hermione picked up the heavy tomb and examined it carefully.

From front to back, the outside of the book was made of some sort of metal. It didn't open like a normal book, but instead opened down the middle, like how French Doors opened.

There was a silver engraving of a Phoenix down the middle next to a small lock. On the lock was two letters- NF.

Hermione glanced up at the Fawkes who was staring at her gravely.

A sudden echoing of voices startled the trio who ducked beneath a row of desks. Ron cast a notice me not charm around themselves as Harry threw up a silencing spell.

Meanwhile, Hermione nodded at Fawkes and shrunk the metal book and stuffed it in her riding jacket.

"…he's been sending me threats, Albus! Nothing I can't handle, of course, but hes getting persistent. He wants me to join his followers, he thinks my powers in Alchemy will lead him to discover where the resurrection stone is!" echoed Nicholas's voice as he exited Dumbledore's private office .

Albus warded the classroom causing the walls to shimmer with a bright blue light.

"Well you are the expert in magical stones."

Nicholas pinched the bridge of his nose un frustration, "Just because I understand the properties of magical stones, does not mean I would willingly give away any secrets concerning them."

Dumbledore followed him and hummed quietly "Gellert has always had an obsession with The Hallows. Its his mission to find them all- he has already acquired the Elder Wand."

"I know." Nicholas made a face of disgust, curling his lip. "And Ignotus Peverelle was the last to have the Cloak of Invisibility. But he's been dead for over a hundred years"

Nicholas , glancing over at Fawkes who appeared to be sleeping in his perch. "so, of course, Grindlewald believes I also know where the cloak might be."

Hermione and Ron met Harry's eyes.

"Do you?"

"Yes, of course I know!" Nicholas laughed bitterly "but that doesn't mean I'm going to tell you either!"

"I'd be disappointed if getting information from you could be so easy." Dumbledore smiled, walking towards Fawkes.

"Grindlewald is out for blood, Albus. If he discovers that I was the one who created The Deathly Hallows, everyone would be in danger."

Hermione clamped a hand over her mouth and stared wide-eyed at Ron and Harry who look equally as thrown.

Nicholas Flamel was the creator of The Deathly Hallows?

There was a pause as Nicholas watched Albus stroke the sleeping Phoenix.

"Has he given any indication that he's aware of himself, Albus?" Nicholas whispered. "When you said he came through the cyclone, I thought perhaps…"

"From what I've gathered, your son is aware of himself being both Phoenix and human. Other than that I cannot say..." Dumbledore said as he stroked Fawkes gently "I've looked into his mind, as far as he will allow me. I've seen bits of the future through his eyes, and I can sense his desire to save the wizarding world from a fate far worse than Gellert Grindlewald. Fawkes believes our little Order of The Phoenix ,is the key to doing so."

"Order of the—? Wait, Faulques wants to…save magic?" His golden widened in surprise as Nicholas gazed lovingly at the sleeping Phoenix.

"He wants to save the world, my friend." Dumbledore smiled, stepping away from the perch to wrap his arms comfortingly around Nicholas. "but in doing so, we may have to destroy your Hallows."

"Destroy them?" Nicholas pulled away from Albus as if he just asked him to cut off a limb "I know Grindlewald is after them, but you cannot ask me of such a thing! I would just as easily destroy the stone!"

Nicholas grabbed the large ruby amulet around his neck and clutched it closer to his chest.

"How could you ask such a thing of me Albus?" Nicholas's voice was filled with hurt.

"And how could you be so good, and yet do things so shockingly cruel, Niki?!" Albus roared suddenly, causing Fawkes to perk up "You used your only child as a means to create the Sorcerers Stone, despite what eternity would mean to him or Perenelle! You cursed his blood and made a Maledictus of him! You stole his feathers, and his tears! You trapped him in this form for five hundred years! Merlins beard, Niki! Even with your notes, I cannot break the curse you placed on him!"

Hermione couldn't help it, she clamped her hand over her mouth in shock, she felt sick. Ron shook his head in denial, and Harry looked at Fawkes, who looked right back at him with solemn understanding.

No one could believe what they were hearing.

Nicholas looked as if Albus had struck him. His eyes hardened to gold spikes that stabbed through Albus.

"You know why I did what I did!" Nicholas whispered icily, turning away from the auburn- haired wizard "It was necessary."

"And the Hallows? How many witches and wizards have met misfortune because of them?!" Albus challenged, standing inches behind Nicholas "Even Beatle The Bard depicted you as death, Niki. And perhaps he's onto something, if you cannot see that the Hallows pose a threat."

"I love my son." Nicholas said in a hard voice which held such conviction "and it was for him that I created the Hallows…but his hatred of magic and himself prevented them for being used as they should have been. The Hallows belong to Faulques, and I will not destroy them."

"Then you damn us all." Albus sighed with heavy disappointment "I've seen enough of the future to know, your son has seen it! The Hallows will destroy us all. "

"Not my family, nor any of my children! Disapprove of me all you like, but I still remain the one true master of death… And no one out wits Death!" Nicholas smirked mischievously, shaking a long golden finger "the Flamel's have survived witch hunts, persecution, the Black Death, the Inquisition. We've survived both muggle and magical war! Even the Germans, who occupy France, with their modern weapons pose no threat to me! Because this too ,we shall survive!"

"And what of the rest of the world?" Albus asked, leaning against one if the desks.

"What of it?" Nicholas roared, gripping the edge of a desk which began turning gold at his touch. His shinning gold knuckles paled considerably as he gripped the desk harder. "Now that I have three more children, do you really think I would leave them unprotected as well?"

Hermione, Ron, and Harry shared a startled look, paling considerably. Each of them seemed lost and unable to reconcile with this newfound knowledge.

"You mean to create more Hallows?" Albus whispered in a cold dangerous voice.

"I mean to protect my children." Nicholas hissed, turning to meet Fawkes's hard eyes "and I will do anything necessary to ensure their safety."

Nicholas's expression softened, as he took a step towards the Phoenix.

Fawkes straitened his long neck, staring at Nicholas with hard, unblinking eyes.

"the Obscurus you created all those hundreds of years ago may still be active, Faulques." Nicholas said sadly, standing in front of the Phoenix "to separate an Obscurus from a wizard is something that could kill you, my son…and I cannot risk killing you."

All anger deflated from the immortal wizard as he stared lovingly at Fawkes.

Fawkes, in return, gazed at Nicholas coldly.

Hermione couldn't help the angry tears that filled her eyes. Her heart skipped a beat ,and Harry appeared to look as if he expected Fawkes to fly at Nicholas and pluck out his eyes. Ron stared hard at the stones beneath his feet, clenching his square jaw tightly.

"Your son yearns to be human again. He's been imprisoned far too long, it would be cruel to deny him a chance. The Sorcerers Stone, and his Maledictus form ,has kept him alive thus far. I'm sure it will protect him during the separation. I may know someone who can help. Someone who has separated an Obscurus from its host before."

"Who?" Nicholas asked desperately, refusing to break eye contact with the Phoenix.

Albus smiled sadly, taking his immortal friend by the shoulder.

"Just another one of my old students." Albus said, smiling sadly "With an affinity for helping fantastic beasts."

.

A/N— Maledictus- an individual whose blood was cursed, eventually leading to them turning into a beast.*totally cannon!*

In the next Fantastic Beasts movie a Maledictus will make an appearance! I was only too happy to play with it and incorporate it into this story!

I also thought it would be fun for Nicholas to have created the Deathly Hallows too. If he can make the Sorcerers Stone, why not also The Resurrection Stone?


	8. Trochar's Blood Offering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet vampires

Chapter 8

Blood Offering

.

That evening Hermione, Harry, and Ron made their way across the grounds.

They were meeting Nicholas for training and felt rather anxious about it.

Hermione had shrunken Nicholas's metal notebook she had stolen, and stashed it away in her pouch. She would decipher it when she found time alone, and then maybe she could find a way to help Faulques.

"What do we really know about the man?" Ron questioned, passing the empty plot of land where Hagrid's Hut would one day sit in the future. "I mean really know about him? I say anyone who could imprison their own son has to be a little bit evil."

Ron made a gesture with his thumb and pointer finger, squeezing a tiny invisible space.

Harry shrugged, behind Hermione "I dunno…I mean look what Barty Crouch did to his son. He sent his own son to Azkaban—"

"Who was a Death Eater." Ron groaned as if he'd explained it a hundred times. He petulantly pulled the hood up over his cloak "and he was instrumental in resurrecting the most evil wizard to have ever existed."

sStill doesn't sit right with me." Harry said quietly, trailing off "If I had a son..."

Harry glanced down at Hermione who said nothing as she read, with four books hovering open in front of her. Her golden eyes flickered from right to left, reading four books at once.

"Do you reckon we'll be dueling each other?" Ron aske, changing the subject "You have to admit we are starting to fill out nicely. Our morning exercises seem to be paying off."

Ron flexed his muscular arms in a comical way that make Harry snort with laughter.

"Most likely practicing wandless magic." Hermione muttered offhandedly, reading a text on Wizards who became trapped in their Animagus forms , and how they managed to revert back.

Harry placed a hand on the small of Hermione's back to guide her as she read while they walked. The other four books levitated in sync with her cadence.

"I'm rubbish at wandless." Harry sighed "I work better in the heat of the moment, but I always need a wand."

"Perenelle told me our blood has a natural power for wandless magic. Apparently it does have to do with how pure your blood is." Hermione said with her nose buried in her book.

Harry gave a startled look at Hermione as if she'd grown a second head.

"Hermione, please don't tell me your buying into that pureblood superiority crap." Ron snorted, turning on his heel to walk backwards so he could face them as he talked.

"I'm a pureblood," Ron motioned with both hands splayed on his chest "and I've never had any sort of mystical blood powers. I mean, take Ferret Face for instance, Malfoy might have boasted about his so called 'blood purity', but what did that even mean? He wasn't remarkable, or talented, or smart like you."

Hermione looked up from her book, and blushed at Ron, who winked right back at her.

"Just because todays Purebloods don't understand their own power, doesn't mean it doesn't exist." Hermione said getting back to her books. "And I, for one, mean to figure it out… along with trying to find a way to free Fawkes."

Harry sighed behind her.

"Should we really be opening up that can or flobberworms? Society is already prejudice enough, without adding to the blood feud." Harry paused, then suddenly chuckled to himself "Thank Merlin Draco isn't here to witness this. Can you imagine his face?"

"I don't want to imagine his pointy face." Hermione snapped shortly, flipping to the next page.

"Kinda miss ol' ferrite face." Harry said surprising himself "He sorta gave life an obnoxious balance."

Ron nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, remember the good ol days when the worst thing you had to worry about was losing a Quidditch match to Malfoy?" Ron sighed happily, then stopped in his tracks causing Hermione's floating books to crash into him.

"Ronald! Watch where your going!"

"Merlin help me!" Ron shouted pathetically "I actually miss the little blonde fucker!"

"Me too." Harry agreed, swooping to pick up Hermiones books "and every time we bested him he'd pout—"

"My father will hear about this!" Ron shouted, then turned to Harry with a wide cheeky grin "I always wanted to say that."

"Yeeeah," Harry sighed fondly "He was a nitwit."

"His arse wasn't too bad either." Ron smirked, jabbing Harry with his elbow.

Harry gasped with secretive laughter, covering his mouth.

"I thought I was the only one who thought that!" he whispered in a hushed tone.

Meanwhile, Hermione rolled her eyes, and flicked her wand towards her books which zoomed out of Harry's hands, and shrunk themselves into her bottomless pocket.

"I still don't understand. The Hallows were passed down through the Peverelle brothers, except for the Elder wand of course." Hermione mused as they passed the Quidditch pitch. "Only defeating the master of the Elder wand grants you power over it. So, why is it that Papa- I mean Nicholas, said he created them for Flauques—"

"Beatle The Bard was a story teller, Hermione." Ron rolled his eyes "and for the most part the fairy tales he spun were just that. There might have a been a kernal of truth to it, but do you actually think three wizards met an embodiment of Death himself? I mean, we know how an invisibility cloak is made, its just the supplies to make it are extremely rare and expensive… BUT if you're an immortal who can turn any metal to gold, an invisibility cloak wouldn't be so hard to make."

"I don't know." Hermione sighed ruffling a hand through her curly hair. "And I hate not knowing!"

"Well if anyone would know, it would be our Father." Harry said quietly.

"Someone call me?" came a voice near the giant golden stables.

Nicholas peeked his golden head out from behind the stables, smiling broadly.

"I was wondering when my children would be coming down. The sun is nearly set!" Nicholas smiled kindly, walking towards the trio to embrace each of them, warmly.

Hermione couldn't help but hold onto him a moment longer than the boys, which seemed to please Nicholas.

"Good evening father." Hermione said quietly, stepping back.

She was still getting used to the idea of calling him father, but she rather liked the feeling. It was as if a piece of her childlike innocence was being given back to her.

Nicholas smiled before placing a light kiss on her forehead.

It was difficult to feel hostile towards the man. He had a way of making them feel cherished…Hermione knew she should be on her guard around Nicholas, but she couldn't help love the man.

"I have a gift for each of you that will be most useful in your training and protection." Nicholas said, pulling out three golden rings from his inner robe pocket. "for each of you. Place them on the middle finger of your wand hand. And don't worry, they adjust to fit."

Hermione, Ron , and Harry looked at one another, remembering the conversation they overheard earlier.

Nicholas wanted to make the three of them a Hallow each. And if they took the rings, what would happen to them if they were Hallows?

"Come now! They won't take your fingers off!" Nicholas laughed at their reluctant expressions.

The gold rings bore a crest with an F in the center.

Slowly each of them placed the rings on their fingers, and held their breaths…

Nothing happened. The rings sat on their fingers and appeared like normal family rings to the naked eye.

"uh, thanks." Ron said awkwardly.

Nicholas chuckled and shook his head "twist them three times counterclockwise." He instructed.

They obeyed ,and as their rings turned a third time around something unusual happened that made the trio leap back, and give a shout.

A golden light shot from their rings ,and lifted them into the air.

The light emcompassed them, and suddenly Hermione felt a light metal curling around her forearms, shins, thighs, chest, and shoulders.

Her hands glowed and suddenly golden gauntlets that resembled claws covered her hands.

On her forearms bracers appeared.

A shield appeared in one hand, and a whip in the other.

Armor appeared over both Ron and Harrys bodies as well. They looked like Greek Gods ready to charge into battle.

Both of them had shields on their back, but where Hermione held a whip, Ron held two battle axes. Harry held a long sword which reminded Hermione of the Sword of Gryffindor.

And then the light was gone, and the trio fell, landing firmly on their feet.

The armor was light as a feather. Magic seethed out of the armor and bled with power.

"From what the three have you have told me about your future, I expect these rings will no doubt be of some use." Nicholas said, suddenly very serious "As your father, I will determine to keep the three of you alive and safe. This armor is enhanced with the same type of magic that Gryffindor's sword has. It imbibes that which makes it stronger."

Harry's golden eyes lit up excitedly. He lifted the swords and gave it a swing, earning a chuckle of amusement from Nicholas.

Ron spun his axes and laughed in boyish delight.

Hermione fingered the golden whip around her wrist. It felt right, and instinctively she felt an energy linking with her own magic…

"Don't worry, part of your training will be learning how to properly use these weapons." Nicholas assured. "and as you've probably felt, your armor and weapons will become compatible with your magical core. Your weapons will learn to obey you, and your armor will become like a second skin."

"furthermore, the armor is impenetrable to blades or arrows. It deflects most hexes, and curses." Nicholas went on with a mischievous grin "and in case someone throws a harmful potion at you, the armor will absorb it. Theres one small weakness to it… Dragonfire. "

Hermione looked up curiously. "I don't think we'll be running across any dragon fire in the near future."

"The scars on your hands tell me a different story." Nicholas tisked wagging a long shimmering finger at her "if you were close enough to a dragon to ride it, you were certainly close enough to feel its fire. And let me tell you, there is nothing more terrible than the flames of dragonfire."

Hermione remembered that terrible journey on the Ironclad Dragon. The scales on the dragon had been like iron spikes. Its hide tore their hands to sheds, and not even her Essence of Dittany had been able to heal everything.

"You're right." Hermione nodded "We don't know what we'll face this time around. We need to be prepared, not waiting for all hell to break lose before we act.

"Well at least we'll look decent while we're kicking ass- Harry looks like a real prince now." Ron grinned, slinking an arm around Harrys shoulder "and Hermione looks like a Valkyrie ready to fly into battle!"

Hermione watched Harry's face heat up even more under Ron's seductive gaze. His cheeks flushed a lovely color causing Ron to throw an arm over Harry and pull him closer.

Hermione raised her eyebrow in amusement "As much as you look like a Viking king, Ronald, the point of armor isn't to indulge in vanity. Its to protect us."

"I know Hermione, I was only teasing." Ron smirked, stroking the side of Harrys arm.

Nicholas clapped his hands ushering them to come forward.

"Come, we don't have all night!" Nicholas said seriously, narrowing his golden eyes. "Your training will be hard and by the end of it, you may very well hate me."

Hermione barely recognized Nicholas's voice. It became harsh and dark, and suddenly his demeanor shifted.

He raised his hand, which revealed a golden ring. Three times he twisted it until Nicholas was lifted off the ground and encased in a ball of light.

When he landed he looked as ruthless and merciless as Mars, the God of War. He became harder, colder, and Hermione felt as if Nicholas had transformed into a completely different person.

His armor made the immortal wizard appear larger than life.

However, Hermione noticed that Nicholas didn't have a weapon. Instead he held a golden helmet, which looked Greek and even had a long golden piece that covered the nose.

"The helmet makes me invisible." Nicholas explained seeing Hermione's interest in it "I could walk into battle, and no one would know I had been there until every last man was laying dead."

"Wicked!" Ron breathed, taking a good look at his own axes "and our wepons?"

"Your axes are indestructible, and their blows are earth shattering. Should you fling one at the ground with intent, you can cause the earth to quake, and open to swallow your enemy's. Once your axes are back in your hands the earth will shut itself up back up." Nicholas explained smirking at Ron's excitement "it will also strike any target, no matter how far away. As long as you can see the target, the axes will hit them every time, and just holding out your hands will return them to you."

"Like Mjolnir, the hammer or Thor!" Hermione exclaimed.

Nicholas nodded approving "Yes, just so."

"And my sword?" Harry asked quietly "It looks like the sword of Gryffindor."

Nicholas's golden eyes flashed to the sword then to Harry, and before anyone could blink, Nicholas conjured a sword of his own.

He was as quick as a viper and Hermione screamed as Nicholas brought his sword down on Harry's neck.

Only the sword was stopped by something.

Harry's sword reacted as if it had a mind of its own and began fighting back!

Harry held to the sword which fought against Nicholas in an heart stopping battle.

Nicholas flipped over Harry, casting his golden cloak aside, as he rained down blows, which never once struck the black haired boy.

Hermione stepped back as she, and Ron watched Harry's sword protect him.

As if it had its own mind.

"its defending you, child!" Nicholas roared nearly catching Harrys knee, but again was blocked "Once you master it, it will do more than just defend- it will kill anyone or anything that gets in your way! Take control of it! IT WILL OBEY YOU EVERY COMAND- NOW STAB ME BOY!"

Harrys face paled at the word 'boy' . Darkness swirled behind his golden eyes, and unexpectedly Harry tightened his hold on the sword and straitened his posture.

He was no longer backing away, or cowering. Hermione had seen him look this way once before, when he confronted Voldemort in the final battle.

There was no fear. And he began to move forwards, blocking every blow without taking his eyes off of Nicholas.

There was no hesitation.

"When the enemy attacks you have two choices- kill or be killed!" Nicholas continued to roar, spitting venomously "Fate might not bless you as well this time around, boy! Your sweet mother hasn't even been born yet- so don't expect love to triumph over whatever evil crosses your path! Now stab me dammit! Stab me or I'll turn on your sister!"

This shook Harry's resolve. His eyes flickered towards Hermione, and suddenly he was striking Nicholas quicker and harder.

His eyes flickered red for a moment; deranged and mad.

He looked positively feral as he landed a kick at Nicholas who dodged easily. In that same moment, Harry screamed and plunged the tip of his sword strait through Nicholas's neck.

Hermione cried out ,and Ron gasped, holding Hermione back. He gripped her so tightly, she knew there would be bruises tomorrow. They took a slow step back as Nicholas sank to his knees.

He was choking horribly on his own golden blood and struggled despite the long thin sword impaling his neck.

Harry stared at Nicholas stoically before ripping the sword out of its fleshy sheath, splaying blood across the grass.

Hermiones heart hammersd against her ribs as she stared at Harry. He looked distant and sad. Then he turnedd away from Nicholas who fell on all fours, gasping.

Several minuets passed un silence…

And then a moment later the immortal wizard leapt to his feet.

His neck was healed and his expression softened sympathetically.

"Harry—"

"Don't." Harry cut off coldly, with his back still turned "I get it. Okay? I don't need you to coddle me."

Nicholas frowned, dabbing the blood from his neck with a lace handkerchief.

"I know I dont, Harry…but you have my blood running through your veins. You are my son as surly as of I sired you myself." Nicholas said kindly "and whatever methods I use to train you, you three will always be my beloved children."

Harry slowly turned to stare at Nicholas, his golden eyes narrow and furious.

"Then don't ever threaten my sister." Harry hissed quietly "and don't ever call me boy again."

Nicholas looked down at Harry and smiled approvingly at his strength and natural commanding nature.

"I expect you to fight like this next time. You can do it, and you will do it." Nicholas nodded, tapping his chin with his pointer finger. "then I won't have to go so easy on you."

"Easy?" Harry sputtered with disbelief "I just shish kabobed your neck with my sword! In what way did you go easy on me?!"

"Oh Harry, my son." Nicholas laughed good naturedly "You've no idea what I'm truly like in battle. And I hope you never do."

Next came Ron, who relished fighting Nicholas. Ron's strength came in handy, despite how quick Nicholas was. In the end Ron walked away with a split lip, swollen left eye, and a broken nose, but was able to sink his axes into Nicholas's chest cavity.

Hermione nearly vomited upon seeing Nicholas's ribs protruding from his sides.

A moment later the man was as right as rain, with a smile to match.

"We need to work on your stealth, child, or next time I'll shatter both your kneecaps." Nicholas warned Ron who froze at the threat "and don't think I won't do it!"

It was Hermione's turn, and she couldn't help but feel helpless with nothing but a whip and a shield.

Without waiting or thinking rationally, she took her shield and flung it like a discus.

The golden shield was light in her hand as she launched it towards Nicholas, who hadn't expected Hermione to improvise her shield into a weapon.

The shield imbeded itself in Nicholas's side nearly severing him in half.

Ron and Harry hadn't expected such a violent attack either. In fact, they stood ready to intervene on her behalf, but now found the very idea foolish.

Of course she could take care of herself.

Nicholas smirked down, then looked up, cocking his head in amusement.

Nicholas ripped out the shield from his side with one hand, and threw it over his shoulder.

Instantly, he conjured a set of daggers and began throwing them at her.

Hermione pivoted, struggled back and nearly fell from dodging the daggers.

It seemed to go on forever, and Hermione couldn't measure how long they danced in the circle they played in.

She knew this strategy. Nicholas meant to wear her down, and he had the strength to do it. It suddenly felt like she was being played with, as if she were the game.

Hermione dived out if the way as one of the daggers pierced through her ankle.

She was horrified that Nicholas actually wounded her…it was then she realized, this was bi game.

The pain was indescribable, and Hermione screamed on the ground, clutching her leg.

"a shield might have been a nice thing to have, if you hadn't given yours up." Nicholas commented, waving his hand causing an orange stream of magic go shoot out of fingers.

A firey dome encased the two of them as Harry and Ron rushed forward to help Hermione.

The barrier kept them out, but they persisted like wild beasts.

Nicholas lifted another dagger, playfully waving it back and forth.

"So, what shall it be my dear? Because you know I wont stop until you strike me down!"

Hermione panted as she watched Nicholas slowly heal himself.

Her golden eyes darted around her till she found a nearby tree with long, thick, low hanging branches.

She struggled to crawl towards the tree as fast as she could.

She could hear Nicholas laughing maliciously behind her.

"there is no hiding, child" Nicholas tisked "you must fight."

Again Hermione didn't give much thought to what she did next.

She felt the whip unravel itself, and with all her strength, threw her arm back and launched it forwards. Her wrist flicked the long whip over a thick branch, and as she concentrated her magic through it, Hermione could feel it submitting to her.

The golden whip cracked through the air as it winded itself around Nicholas's neck.

The golden whip glowed as it tightened itself.

Hermione began lifting herself off the ground by the rope, which caused Nicholas to rise into the air by his neck.

His feet flailed and kicked the air around him. He frantically clawed at the rope, which tightened itself even more causing his throat to bleed profusely.

Hermione continued to climb the rope until she was at eye level with Nicholas.

The tip of his boots grazed the blades of grass as he kicked out for support.

She watched him gasping for air. She watched his golden eyes bulge out of his sockets, and his shimmering beautiful face turn an ashy purple color.

After another minuet of this Nicholas stopped moving.

Hermione stared at the man, who looked out at her with dead glassy eyes.

Her heart was surprisingly calm, and as she slid down the whip she couldn't help but wonder if this was the beginning of something terrible for her.

Not because she "killed" Nicholas, but because she had enjoyed watching the life leave his eyes.

A dark shiver trickled down her spine.

Yes, she enjoyed it a little bit too much.

As Nicholas dropped to the ground in a heap, Hermione jerked her whip back , and obediently it snapped back to her, wrapping itself around her wrist.

It took longer for Nicholas to come back around, and as he did, the fiery dome around them fell.

Nicholas gasped for air and rolled onto his back, smiling mischievously.

"Well…done…daughter." Nicholas panted, massaging his neck which slowly began to close itself up.

"Sorry." Hermione muttered as Ron ran to her side, scooping her into his arms.

"You stabbed her!" Harry shouted, assessing Hermione's small ankle.

"And she killed me!" Nicholas clapped happily "I say we made a nice little dent today, don't you?"

"Ah, now I see why Dumbledore likes him so much." Ron whispered into Hermiones ear "their both out of their bloody minds!"

"Heal her." Harry demanded.

"Oh yes, almost forgot. You don't heal as fast as I do!" Nicholas joked, pulling a potion from his belt. "but you do heal faster than most- watch."

Waving his hand over her ankle caused the dagger to disappear.

And then something happened that made Hermione gasp in shock.

She could see her flesh stitching itself back together. She could feel millions of cells healing and pulling themselves back together.

Within a few minuets her wound was completely healed, without a scratch blemishing her white skin.

"There we are!" Nicholas smiled.

Ron slowly set Hermione back on her feet.

"That's all for tonight, I think. Tomorrow, the real training begins—"

But whatever Nicholas was about to say was cut off by Harry who held up his hand. He was looking towards the forbidden forest, searching through the grove of trees and darkness for something no one else could see.

"Ssshassh hessshset ssah." Harry hissed gently, kneeling down in one knee, and extending out his hand "ssset ssah!"

Hermione peered into the bush as a long black Asp slithered its way towards Harry.

It wasn't threatening, nor did it appear afraid.

The snake hissed quietly as it reached Harry and raised its shinny black head to meet Harry's eyes.

Harry looked startled at whatever the snake was saying. And then the snake slithered back into the forest.

"sssso ssset hussesset!" Harry called after the snake then stood, turning back to the others.

"So…he says there are vampires roaming the forest tonight. They're pretty close by." Harry said, turning to grab Hermione's and Rons wrist. "lets start heading back."

"What do you mean close by?" Hermione gasped as Harry dragged her behind him "how close?"

"Dunno, but they're out for blood." Harry muttered, looking back over his shoulder towards the forest.

"Shit, and the sun is already set!" Ron muttered fearfully "lets get the fuck out of here!"

But Nicholas didn't look concerned about the threat of vampires at all. In fact he looked as if he couldn't care less.

"I didn't know you could speak pausaltongue! Fascinating! Oh course now that I know this, a study in healing magic is essential!" Nicholas clapped Harry's shoulder proudly, making Harry flinch as he walked faster "Pausaltongues actually have extremely powerful healing magic!"

"Do they? I never knew." Harry said absently as he dragged Ron and Hermione back across the grounds with Nicholas in tow "I mean I've never really been that great at healing magic myself. My body heals any malady or flesh would inflicted upon it!"

"That's great." Harry muttered absently, more focused on his surroundings

Again, Harry looked over his shoulder. His sword sat at his hip, and Ron made sure to hold one of his axes firmly in his free right hand.

"Yes! Pausalhealing is what most Pausaltongues concentrate their major of study in!...well they did before society began believing that Pausaltongues were inherently evil. Such rubbish!" Nicholas sneered, then with the tip of his finger began drawing a firey Caduceus in midair.

The symbol of flames floated in front of the trio, who continued to walk on as the symbol glowed in front of them

"What is it?" Ron asked

"It's the muggle medical symbol for healing." Nicholas explained pointing to the symbol. "two snakes wrapped around a staff with wings. It was also said to be the staff of the Greek God Hermes, which stood for occupation and trade, but the origin actually goes back farther to ancient Mesopotamia. It dates back to 4000 BC to the God Ningishzida, who was the God of vegetation, and the underworld- but I'm getting carried away!"

"uh-huh." Ron nodded, studying their surroundings vigilantly, as if paranoid a vampire might appear at any moment "So basically Harry has hissing healing abilities?"

"Well I suppose you could call it that." Nicholas muttered, slightly put out that no one else seemed as excited as he was.

"Yeah. Okay." Harry nodded, hurrying across the Quidditch pitch, gripping Ron, and Hermione's hands tightly "But who will teach me? I don't know of another Pausaltongue, other than Riddle."

"Young Tom can speak as well? Gracious me! Two Pausaltongues!" Nicholas exclaimed happily "Seems like I'll need to arrange a lunch with the boy sooner than I thought."

"You're going to have lunch with him?" asked Harry in angry shock "I don't think that's a good idea sir—"

"Please, call me papa, or father- I insist!"

Ron looked like he'd rather rip out his tongue than call anyone 'Papa'.

"er- father…Being alone with Tom is dangerous, even for you." Harry emphasized seriously, looking over his shoulder at Nicholas who looked as happy as can be "He might not look it but he's already created two Horocruxes."

"I know, which makes him all the more intriguing." Nicholas smiled, looking like a sun God, even shrouded in the darkness of night "I've studied soul magic, and if he allows me perhaps I could help in some way."

Hermione shook her head " the only way to heal a torn soul is by remorse."

Nicholas gave Hermione an amused look of mock vexation.

"How do you know that's all there is to healing a soul?" Nicholas challenged with a small smile, making Hermione balk "When a Dementor sucks a soul from a wizard, where does it go? When a soul passes through the Veil at the Ministry Of Magic, does that mean its trapped forever in unknown space? When a soul is torn, is remorse, as you say, the only way to heal it? Yes, remorse is one way… but it can also be so painful that the wizard attempting it can die in the process."

Nicholas ran in front of the trio, stopping them in their tracks.

The Alchemist twisted his ring thrice, and his armor disappeared. His golden robes flowed freely once more.

Hermione and Ron looked around, feeling a sense of dread at how quiet the atmosphere suddenly become.

The wind cease to rustle through the trees, the sounds of birds and insects quieted as well.

Hermione kept the boys behind her as she tightened her grip on her wand. Ron grabbed hold of Harry's wrist tightly, pulling the smaller boy closer to him.

The three of them were suddenly quite grateful for the armor and weapons.

Although, their training was incomplete, they felt a little better…but not much.

"What else can be done then?" Harry asked impatiently, raising a hand to rub his scar.

Hermione and Ron gave Harry a sharp look as he winced in obvious pain.

Hermione's apprehension only increased, and suddenly she felt a heavy sense…as if she were being watched.

No, she was certain she was being watched.

Nicholas saw Harry rubbing his scar, and stepped in front of Harry, placing the palm of his hand over the feverish scar.

Harry flinched, but Nicholas held him firmly, grabbing Harry's upper arm with his free hand.

"Its more than just a connection." Nicholas said gently as his hand began to glow. The veins of the back of his gold hand began pulsating with white light and power.

Harry's golden eyes widened and suddenly his head was thrown back by the sudden surge of power.

Ron made a move towards Nicholas, but Hermione stopped him.

"Ron!" Hermione whispered harshly, staring at a specific grove of trees. She reached out to grab Ron's arm roughly.

There was a dark figure standing there, staring at her.. and Hermione got the sense that she was being hunted.

Taunted.

Mocked.

Measured.

Meanwhile, Nicholas's hand remained over Harry's forehead, causing Harry to glare up at Nicholas in displeasure.

"There's a broken soul within the scar. Its seeped into your mind and tangled itself with your own soul… its impossibly knotted. So much so that I can't differentiate where your soul begins and his ends. Its been fused." Nicholas noted with great concern "but nothing pausalmagic can't heal... If effort id applied."

Nicholas released Harry's head ,and turned on his heal to retrieve a small glowing orb from his satchel.

Hermione studied the orb. It was small enough to fit in the palm of a hand. Inside looked like a storm of glittering light.

The orb was beautiful and she wondered what it was for.

"What?" Harry blurted out, both angry and confused "No! Only remorse or utter destruction can eradicate a Horocrux! You're making no sense!"

"My dear boy!" Nicholas shouted, shaking Harry "do you really think I haven't learned anything in over 600 years?! What do you think I've done with my time, if not further and discover the complexities of magic and its limits? Which I will tell you are NONE! I've discovered how to preserve a magical soul- a BODY and a mind that will never age- NEVER decay! I have seen my soul and dissected it, down to my magical core! I have created such magic; both terrible and great ,and have still yet to reach its limits! How far is space? How many grains of sand are there on earth? Magic cannot be limited! So don't you dare try and convince me, in your wisened age of seventeen, that what I say is senseless!"

Birds from the Forbidden Forest scattered in a hurry at the echoing roar of Nicholas's booming voice.

At that same moment Nicholas chose to throw the soft glowing orb into the forest as hard as he could.

Hermione watched it shoot towards the figure in the dark grove of trees.

The effect was instantaneous.

A blinding night exploded out of the orb, making the night become day in an instant.

There was a blood curdling shriek as Hermione watched the figure become illuminated by the light, before falling to his knees.

The vampires flesh melted off, its hair disintegrating into ash, and still it screamed.

There was another blining white light, akin to what a small nuclear bomb of sunlight might have been to a vampire.

The trio flinched, shielding their eyes from the light.

The reverberations of the vampire's shrieks still echoed throughout the grounds, leaving the trio stunned.

Meanwhile, Nicholas continued to round on Harry as if nothing out of the ordinary just took place.

"And for your information, the ancient Mesopotamian God Ningishzida, was not actually a God at all." Nicholas panted, giving his golden robes a quick tug and cracked his neck "He was, in fact, a wizard, and an ancestor to young Salazar Slytherin himself! Ningishzida could speak Pausaltongue which is why his symbol includes two snakes on a staff- and why is that you might ask? Because he was a great healer!"

Half stunned at seeing a vampire disintegrate, yet still captivated by what Nicholas was saying, Hermione shook her head.

"But the body is different from the soul!" Hermione protested "which is why Tom can split his and still go on living!"

Ron was still staring at the scorched earth where the vampire had disintegrated with wide eyes.

"I didn't say Ningishzida was a healer of the body." Nicholas laughed, shaking his head at how naïve and young the trio seemed compared to him. "I told you, he was considered a God of vegitation and the underworld…and why do you think muggles named him as the God of the underworld?"

The trio looked at one another in disbelief. Hermione's eyes shinned with hunger and awe at the depth of the wizards knowledge. Her hands shook as she brought them to her mouth.

"Because, with Pausalmagic, Ningishzida could heal a damaged soul. He could bring back the souls of the dead…not only that, but he could also preserve them to live on." Nicholas whispered reverently "He only ever had two apprentices. One of them being Herpo The Foul, who created the Horocrux…and the second was me."

Nicholas smiled, lifting his arms up as if to show off his magnificent golden robes.

"I've never told anyone, except Perenelle, these things." Nicholas said, watching a flock of birds fly back into the forest. "So you see… I do know one or two things about soul magic, and how to heal one. After all, I was educated by the God of souls himself…and now, children, I shall educate you too."

As they continued to walk forward, Hermione could have sworn she heard the faint sound of a young mans voice in the distance.

The cry was brief, but she felt it pull at her, demanding her to follow it.

No one else seemed to hear it, and they went on speaking to one another and debating.

They made it to the castle when Hermione turned to Nicholas and the boys.

"Save me a Turkish Delight in the Great Hall? I need to check on something." She said turning to make her way through the courtyard.

The boys had already twisted their rings and nodded, muttering 'bloody library' under their breaths.

Nicholas was still trying to question Harry about his Pausaltongue when Hermione ran out of sight.

She didn't know why she was running back towards the Forbidden Forest, or why she felt the need to keep it a secret.

It was completely dark as she ran through the forest, aware of every sound and movement that surrounded her.

And oddly enough, Hermione didn't feel afraid.

.

Tom was deep within the forest when he heard the scream which interrupted his conversation with the elder vampire.

The vampires turned on instinct, and crouched down, shielding themselves with their cloaks for dear life.

A few of the younger ones hadn't been fast enough and burned as the flash of white light illuminated the forest.

Trochar, the clan leader screamed as his fledglings dissolved before his eyes.

For a split second the night turned to day.

Tom hissed as the light blinded him for an instant. The light had come from the edge of the forest, which meant someone from the school knew there were vampires roaming close by.

After the light disappeared the three elder vampires descended on Tom with unholy fury.

They looked a perfect horror- skin shrunken and shriveled, veins like ropes over the contour of their faces, and blackened burned flesh that had been extremely white and reflective a moment before.

"You've betrayed us!" Trochar screamed, lifting Tom off of the ground by his neck.

Tom turned desperately, gasping out a burning hex which struck the elder vampire across the face, severely.

Tom was dropped, and lost his footing, but not before his mate, Damas, latched onto his throat.

Tom cried out as the she-vampire sank her teeth into his neck and drank heavily from him.

The third vampire drove his teeth into the opposite side of his neck, viciously.

A low rasping laughter came from the burned mouth of the Trochar, whose teeth elongated at the sight.

"You insult us by bringing this blonde child as your blood offering," Trochar laughed pointing to the small blonde girl who lay unconscious at his feet. "and then you try killing us! An ancient clan who've roamed these lands for over a thousand years! And with an Angel Orb no less!"

The vampire laughed louder and louder, deliberately mocking Tom who fought Damas madly.

Another burned vampire took Toms wand and snapped it in half, causing Tom to scream in hellish fury.

He released his wandless magic which forced both Damas and the third vampire to fly backwards.

The vampire's were thrown with such magical force that they both struck a thick trees and broke them in half.

Toms body was heavy all over, and the aches and pains he felt from blood loss was overwhelming.

Dizziness began to threaten his field of vision, and he felt for the first time in a very long time… fear.

"I'm going to drain you into husk, boy." Trochar hissed, lunging for Tom.

His black burned hand was inches from Toms neck when the sound of a crack echoed through the air.

A golden vine wrapped itself around Trochar's wrist.

Tom looked up and for a moment wondered if he was hallucinating.

An outline of a young woman in golden armor appeared.

Joan of Arc, Tom thought as he watched the young woman yank on the end of her whip.

Her skin had an erethrial glow to it…like moonlight.

"Beautiful." Tom muttered as if under a spell.

He fell to his knees as they gave out beneath him, and watched on, content to die at the sight before him.

"Step aside girl!" Trochar roared, rubbing his burned wrist where her whip had captured it.

"Please! I don't know what he did, but I cannot allow you to harm him!" Hermione pleaded "I know he probably deserves whatever you're trying to do, but he's under my protection!"

"I don't care if he's under the protection of Merlin himself- the boy slighted us ,and then tried to kill my clan with an Angel Orb!" Trochar laughed. "Many of my fledglings have died this night because of his carelessness!"

Tom could see how fierce the girl's expression was , and would have laughed if he had any strength to spare, which he did not.

She was beautiful, her fierce heartfelt intensity made him smile, and his only thought was of her scowl.

He knew that scowl.

He knew those powerful golden eyes that held such destruction.

"He had nothing to do with it!" she protested "It was an Alchemist who used it on a vampire who wandered too close to the school. Tom had nothing to do with it!"

The burned vampires hissed, making threatening moves towards Hermione, who refused to flinch.

"Lies!"

"I can't offer an excuse on his behalf for the slight he gave to you, but the Orb was not of his doing!" Hermione pleaded, then paused stepping forward.

She dropped her weapons, and twisted her ring making her armor disappear, leaving her in nothing but a pretty white cotton dress.

She knew instinctively that it was a stupid thing to do. Every sense told her to get out of there, but Hermione held firm.

Vampires, from what little she had studied, were creatures that demanded respect and honor just as much as living blood.

Her long neck and fleshy shimmering skin was exposed, causing the blackened vampires surrounding her to freeze.

The sweetness and softness of her skin enticed them, her youth and fierceness and sudden submission seduced them.

"Please…" Hermione whispered quietly "I will give you my own 'Blood Offering' as a sign of goodwill, and as an apology for my friend."

Friend?

Tom blinked, clutching the blades of vines and roots beneath his feet.

Something stirred within him that made him want to strike out at the girl…Hermione.

Tom squeezed his eyes shut and forced the feeling away.

He felt too sick to keep his eyes open anymore.

She was trying to help, and if he refused he would surely die.

The vampires seemed stunned at the willing submission and paused to study the witch.

"And what makes you think we want your blood? We already have a girl to feed on, if we wish to." Replied Trochar, motioning to Nebula Malfoy who lay like a discarded rag dill in the dirt.

Hermione gasped seeing Nebula for the first time.

Instantly her eyes locked onto Tom, and narrowed dangerously.

"Well?"

Hermione tore her eyes away from Tom, and looked at Trochar seriously.

At that moment she thanked the heavens for her vault- like mind which had the habit of retaining everything it read.

Insufferable-Know-It-All, indeed.

"For your honor of course." Hermione replied, pulling her hair to the side to expose her neck. "Your clan is an ancient one. You can have any blood you desire... But blood isn't the problem."

Trochar, even in his burned state, seemed intrigued.

"And how would a little witch like you know anything about our honor, or even care? Isn't it your society which condemns my kind?! You magic users insult us with unjust laws, and segregation which leave us to starve and struggle to survive! Our children are forbidden to school, and thus we are kept in a ignorant position we can never hope to rise from!"

Hermione's heart broke for them despite the threat they posed to her.

The vampire was a blackened horrible sight, but as his voice broke, Hermione couldn't keep her own tears from falling.

"My society is wrong, but I promise you- I will change it!" she vowed "On my magic and life as a Flamel, and a witch."

Magic pulsed around Hermione causing the other vampires to step back.

Trochar's yellow eyes widened watching the magic weave around Hermione; flickering like lightning in a storm cloud.

"I know how terrible our society can be to those it considers to be less than pure. It sickens me!" Hermione snarled, practically spitting with rage "The vampire belongs to this world as much as any other wizard."

The vampires yellow eyes faltered. His face so subtly transformed itself to rage that Hermione drew back.

He was the perfect incarnation of malice shed ever seen.

"So you say, but what makes you believe I trust the words of a witch. I do not trust your witchcraft, nor do I trust your words!" Trochar shouted, flashing his fangs.

"My blood will help heal you." Hermione said suddenly, and completely serious "It contains properties that can heal you faster than any other human can."

"You lie!" Trochar shouted, and was thus unprepared for what happened next.

With her hand Hermione transfigured a twig into a dagger.

In three swift motions Hermione sliced open her wrists and the side of her neck.

Ruby red blood poured down her skin, shimmering slightly within the red.

The blood that stained her simple white cotton gown, spread down her breasts and belly. It reminded Hermione of what ink did when it spilled across fresh parchment.

Perfect silence reigned. She could feel their eyes watching the warm blood as a starving man might a warm meal.

"Drink," Hermione whispered, extending her arms to the burned vampires "Allow me to be the Blood Offering that was stolen from you tonight."

Trochar moved so fast she hardly noticed he had moved until he was inches away from her face. He towered over her, cupping the side of her face gently with his burned hand.

Hermione could smell the burned flesh, as if it were still on fire. Her heart pounded as he lowered his mouth to her neck and inhaled deeply.

Hermione shuddered as Trochar clamped his mouth over her wound, carful not to knick her with his fangs.

As soon as his did, his mate Damas, and another vampire tool hold of her wrists and drank.

They did not pierce her once, and made sure to hold her gently, almost lovingly.

The feeling was akin to what being held in a lovers embrace felt like

And then all at once the vampires drew away from Hermione. Their violet eyes dialated, and their breathing grew heavy.

Hermione fell to her knees as dizziness overwhelmed hher

When she looked up the vampires blackened skin began healing itself. It was a slow process, and in the end their skin became painfully red and blistered, but at least it wasn't charred black.

Even their hair began growing back.

Hermione noticed just how beautiful Damas was, even in her half healed state.

Damas no longer looked hateful, but rather soft and curious.

Her long red hair fell over her breasts in a wild mane.

Trochar's black hair had grown back, as did the third vampire whose hair tumbled down his back in dark thick waves. He looked very French to Hermione, and very tender.

As if he had heard Hermione's thoughts, the third vampire stepped forward and sank a fang into his bottom lip.

Like the gentleman of the old world, he took her slit wrists and kissed them softly.

His blood mingled with hers and instantly her flesh began to heal faster than she had seen before.

He kissed the side of her neck and drew away, smiling innocently down at her.

He offered Hermione his hand, and she took it and carefully rose to her feet.

Hermione smiled "I'm sorry it wasn't enough…I…I can always come back tomorrow and offer you a second Blood Offering—"

"You would offer another offering?" Trochar breathed, all anger gone. "Do you understand the magnitude of what you've done?"

"Tom didn't know a Blood Offering required the sacrifice to be a willing subject." Hermione said forcing her voice to stay even, the loss of blood threatened her every action.

Hermione glanced at Nebula's crumpled form, then turned back to Trochar.

"The girl is my friend too—"

"We do not feed on ones so small." Damas said fiercely " it is against our laws, yet he lay insult to injury when he brought us an unwilling child sacrifice!"

She spat at the ground where Tom lay, now unconscious.

Trochar's mate moved to rip out Toms throat when Trochar took her by the wrist to still her.

"But why did he want to meet with you?" Hermione asked glancing at Tom who now lay flat in his back, unfocused.

"He wanted to speak to me about a possible alliance. He offered us many magical gifts such as potions that would allow us to walk in the sun. We kept in contact, and I admit having been seduced by the boys words." Trochar said, still holding Damas firmly "He talked of revolutionizing the wizarding world. He convinced me that perhaps we could change the stigma that's been set against us. He spoke of such detailed plans…and yet despite his words, his actions have proven less than reassuring."

Hermione nodded in understanding.

"Toms words have a habit of doing that. I'm just s-sorry he….he" Hermione felt her head swim, as darkness threaten to engulf her "I'm—"

Trochar limped to her side, placing a cold blistered hand on her shoulder to steady her.

"I'll be alright. I heal faster than most." Hermione shook her head, then took a deep breath. "I only ask that we be able to leave the forest unharmed. And if you wish, I can return tomorrow night and present you with another Blood Offering."

"There won't be a need for it. By tomorrow we will be fully healed, and back to our old selves." Trochar said quietly, gazing at her with his bottomless eyes. "But I shall grant your request if you promise me something."

"Yes?"

"It would please me to see you again." Trochar smiled, causing his red blistered skin to stretch painfully "I have never met a witch such as yourself. You have such a passion and selflessness. I am intrigued that a young witch should have a knowledge of our customs and a drive to defend creatures such as we."

Hermione made to bow her head in respect and submission to his request but was stopped by his finger under her chin. He lifted it so that her golden eyes met his.

"Such eyes." He whispered with quiet enthrall "Such fire they hold…it tempts me greatly to make you a child of darkness, and yet I can see a different path is set for you. I see war and blood in those golden eyes… I see a warrior."

Hermione sucked in a breath as he dipped his head to capture her lips.

His lips were as cold as death, but were extremely soft as a result of the new skin growing over them.

It was a chaste kiss, and when he pulled away Trochar seemed sad all of a sudden.

"Perhaps it is the loss of four of my clan children tonight that is making my tongue say such things." Trochar said gazing over at a smear of blacked earth and bone near a gnarled tree "Or perhaps it is because you are the first human to look at me as an equal. No fear, just respect and understanding…such a strange human you are."

"I was serious about helping your kind." Hermione said "My society is wrong for their treatment of you…among many other magical creatures, but I mean to change things. I don't know how… but I'll find a way."

Trochar laughed quietly, then slowly reached into his charred black robes "How I wish I could steal you away like a monster from a fairy tale…I wish to see you again."

Damas and the third vampire who Hermione did not know shifted at Trochars words. Hermione wondered if he should say such things with his mate behind him.

"take this pendant, Hermione." Trochar offered her a black stone on a gold chain, it looked flat and smooth like a stone you would use to skip across water. "hold it in your fist, and squeeze it. I will be alerted and at that time I will come to this place. Vice versa, your stone will heat up when I desire your company."

Desire

Hermione took the stone and placed it around her neck. She did want to change the world, she wanted that more than anything… and she hoped this was a good sign.

"I'm sorry about your clan." Hermione looked up at Trochar who had turned back to his remaining children.

"Until next time, child." Trochar's whisper echoed through the forest "Come Damas, come Sanguini."

Hermione's head jerked up at the mention of Sanguini. She remembered him now.

Back in sixth year at the Slug Club Christmas party , a wizard by the name Worple had brought the vampire Sanguini as a guest.

She studied the vampire, and smiled as he made eye contact with her.

Slowly he bowed to her.

And then she blinked, and just like that the three vampires were gone.

Hermione fell to her knees, allowing herself a moment of weakness , and exhaustion.

She glanced over at Tom who was now unconscious.

Anger built up in her chest. He tried to sacrifice Nebula, and Hermione had no doubt whatsoever that he was also behind the small girls bouts of memory loss.

Tom was doing something awful to Nebula, and using her as a Blood Sacrifice was too much.

She reached into her bottomless pouch and pulled out a blood replenishing potion from her first aid kit.

Since the war she was never without one.

She downed the contents then waited another moment before standing.

She felt much better but still extremely weak. She looked down and saw the skin on her wrists almost completely healed.

She waved a quick cleaning spell over her clothes then walked over to Tom.

She was about to awaken him, and give him a potion when her eyes caught Nebula's small body shaking with cold.

She felt the darkness in her chest flare up. Her heart hammered in her chest and just like that Hermione began kicking Tom as hard as she could in the stomach.

She kicked him as hard as she could, smiling with satisfaction as she heard a few cracks.

"YOU EVIL! YOU DEMONIC SON OF A BITCH!" Hermione screamed.

She fell to her knees and began slamming her fist into his beautiful face.

After hearing his nose break, Hermione stood, staggering back towards Nebula.

No, she wouldn't help Tom tonight. She felt too much hatred towards him.

Let the wolves have him, she thought bitterly.

She made quick work levitating Nebula through the forest ,and back towards the school.

By the time she reached the school, dinner was halfway through ,and she was able to make it to the infirmary without being seen.

"Gracious me!" Madam Leval cried as Hermione barged through, causing the doors to open with a bang. "What happened here?!"

At once the elderly matron waved her wand over Nebula who was placed on one of the middle beds.

Diagnostic charms surrounded Nebula like a cocoon.

"I heard a scream in the forest on my way to the Great Hall. I was in walking across the grounds when I heard it." Hermione lied "I went to investigate, I should've got a professor, but I panicked!"

"Its alright, she seems fine for the most part." Madam Leval said quickly, distracted with her spellwork. "for now go back and inform Mister Malfoy of his sisters situation. I'm sure he'll be quite worried about her by now."

Hermione fought the urge to snort. Malfoy ,with all his propriety and snobbish customs, probably didn't even know his sister was missing.

Hermione nodded and padded out of the infirmary towards the Great Hall.

She had left Tom alone and wounded in the forest…and she didn't feel the slightest bit if guilt over it.

She hoped Aragog found him and ate him! What poetic justice that would be!

When she got to the Great Hall Harry and Ron spotted her immediately.

They waved over for her to sit between them.

"HIYAAA HERMIONEEE!" a sing song voice called from across the hall at the Gryffindor Table.

Hermione turned to find little Fenrir Greyback waving furiously. He stuffed his cheeks full of bread rolls making him look like a chipmunk.

Hermione waved back at the boy despite feeling a cold stab in her gut.

A quick flash of his grown up self thrusting violently into her invaded her mind.

She banished the image as she ignored Ron and Harry's concerned looks.

She passed them and stood over Abraxas Malfoys shoulder.

Orion Black lifted his chin to signal Malfoy, who slowly set down his dinner dagger, patted his mouth with a cloth napkin before turning to face Hermione.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Abraxas who gave her an bored look.

"Yes, how may I help you Miss Flamel?"

"I need to speak with you immediately…in private." Hermione's voice was serious, but that didn't stop Abraxas from cocking an amused eyebrow.

"Interesting." He replied in his posh accent that made Hermione understand where Lucius Malfoy learned to speak so arrogantly. "And pray tell, what would you like to speak to me about?"

"Your sister." Hermione said sharply "and I think you should come with me, now."

This sobered Abraxas up, and instantly he stood gracefully, making his way past Hermione. She followed him out of the Great Hall throwing Ron and Harry an apologetic look before she exited the hall.

As soon as the doors were closed Hermione threw up a privacy charm around them.

"I've taken your sister into the infirmary." Hermione said quickly, ignoring the way his grey eyes widened "I was walking across the grounds and heard a scream. I went to investigate, and found your sister unconscious in the middle of the forest. From what I gathered she wasn't hurt, but she was unconsious."

Abraxas expression did not change, but she could tell by the way his breathing hitched ever so slightly that the news shook him to his core.

The pupils in his grey eyes narrowed, and Hermione knew deep down that he actually cared for his little sister.

"You conveniently just happened to walk by when this happened?" he asked, staring at Hermione hard.

"My brothers and I had training with our father tonight. I went back to our stables to check on the Pegasus." Hermione lied again "It was then that I heard Nebula."

Abraxas didn't answer Hermione right away, instead he studied her as if trying to decipher a lie.

After a moment he nodded and straitened himself.

"Your brothers mentioned the training... You have my family's gratitude, Miss Flamel. It seems we are indebted to you." He bowed slightly "should you be in need of a favor, or think of any way the Malfoy's may repay you, please let me know."

Hermione thought for a moment before answering.

"I would only ask that you not tell your father about your sister…Nebula, shes afraid of him." Hermione confessed causing Abraxas to flinch at Hermione's intimate knowledge.

He obviously didn't like that she knew such a thing.

"So please, comfort her and care for your sister without involving someone who might do more damage—"

"You presume too much about my father, Flamel. And I advise you to forget everything my sister told you." Abraxas snapped angrily, breaking his proper expressionless façade.

"This is what I require to repay the debt." Hermione demanded without a shred of fear "care for Nebula, and keep her secrets. I ask for nothing more…your sister needs you, Malfoy! She loves you, the least you can do is protect her. I shouldn't have to tell you this!"

"I do love her!" Abraxas shouted breaking completely "More than anyone in this world!"

"Then tell her!"

Silence fell between them as Abraxas and Hermione stared each other down like two Alphas.

He looked on the verge of saying something more, but sighed. He straitened himself and gave his robes a tug.

"You have my gratitude Miss Flamel." He said returning to his pristine pureblood manner "Now, if you please, I must inquire about my sister."

With that Abraxas side stepped Hermione ,and strode down the hall and out of sight.

Hermione wanted to collapse into bed, but she also needed food. In the end sleep won, and Hermione made her way back towards the dungeons.

She collapsed into bed without taking off her dress or shoes.

It had been a taxing day, and that night she slept peacefully without a second thought to Tom who still lay in a broken heap in the Forbidden Forest.

A/N— JKR had originally intended to use 'Trochar' as a name for a vampire in her HP books… so naturally I decided to use it!

Yep, she sure did leave his ass in the forest, wouldn't you?


	9. Obliviate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Abraxas vows vengeance-  
> Tom invades Hermione's mind-  
> And Grindlewald appears

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Through the Cyclone of The Phoenix

By- RobinTheSlytherin

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Chapter 9

OBLIVIATE

"It is only when a man feels himself face to face with such horrors that he can understand their true import."

― Bram Stoker, Dracula

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"For the last time Mister Malfoy!" Madam Leval exclaimed with exhaustion "We won't know the full extent of your sister's injuries until she wakes! First the mess with Mister Avery and his eyes, and now this!"

"Ursa?" Abraxas narrowed his eyes, following Madam Leval's direction of an isolated bed in the back of the infirmary, screened off from view.

Abraxas sprinted to the bed and pulled aside the curtains to find Ursa Avery unconscious. There were thick bandages over his eyes and a few more over certain areas of his body.

"What in Merlin's name happened to him?" Abraxas whispered, staring down in horror at his housemate.

"Potions explosion." Madam Leval snapped, striding towards Avery's bed to close the curtains, shoving Abraxas aside in the process. "I suppose since the two of you are friends, you should know. The explosion cause both of his eyes to burn out of his head. I've asked Professor Slughorn to brew an Optic Potion to regrow his eyes, but that will take two weeks. Mister Avery has been administered The Draught of Living Death and will be kept under until we can find a way to heal him. The process is painful. However, the circumstances of his injuries leave me suspect."

"Suspect?" Abraxas asked, unable to shake the image of Avery's eyes being burned out of his sockets.

"I've dealt with hundreds of potion explosions over the fifty-three years I've been a Matron of this Hospital Wing." Madam Leval turned, striding back towards Nebulas bed "I know what a potions accident looks like, but this was different. Instead the injuries being distributed in equal variations across the body, Mister Avery had a severe concentration in and around his eyes. The burns in his eyes are deeper that the ones across his body. This tells me very simply that his eyes were damaged minuets before the potion explosion injured the rest of his body."

Abraxas stared at the screen shielding Ursa Avery, in horror.

"Knowing that, this begs the question as to how Mister Avery could have tried to brew a potion while his eyes were literally burning out of his skull?" Madam Leval asked as she tucked in the blankets around his sister's shoulders. "especially since Professor Slughorn tells me Mister Avery is one of his most promising students."

"You think someone attacked Ursa?" Abraxas asked, studying his sisters sleeping face.

"I don't think anything, Mister Malfoy." Madam Leval snapped, checking the status charm around his sister.

Abraxas was quiet as the Matron read the results, muttering to herself.

"You said her body had a history of multiple broken bones." Abraxas ground out through his teeth, he knew his composure was failing him, but he didn't care. "My sister has never had so much as a bruise mare her skin. I tell you, its impossible that your status spell could detect so many fractures and breaks."

"Are you questioning my credentials, Mister Malfoy?" asked Madam Leval dangerously.

"I question how such a thing could happen without anyone knowing. Wouldn't she have been in pain? Don't you think I would have seen?" Abraxas sat back down at Nebulas bedside, practically throwing himself into the chair.

His aristocratic eloquence was slipping as he tried to think of a time he had ever seen his sister in any physical pain.

"I would have noticed." He repeated as if trying to convince himself of his own words.

"Would you?" Madam Leval asked seriously before turning on her heel and walking back towards her quarters "I will admit that both situations regarding your sister and Mister Avery, are suspicious. She should rest Mister Malfoy, and I suggest you do the same."

Abraxas leaned his elbows on his thighs, steepling his fingers under his sharp chin.

"The situation doesn't make sense." He muttered under his breath as Madam Leval took her leave. "Unless the one who attacked Avery, also attacked…"

His sister had been administered Skelogrow, and bruise healing paste for her back and ribs. Abraxas helped Madam Leval apply the Murtlap Essence for the various cuts on Nebula's hands and arms earlier that evening.

His fingers shook with rage as he applied the essence. Someone had attacked his sister, and she tried to fight back.

She shouldn't have had to fight back. He should have protected her.

Her hands were so small. Nebula had always been a small child, even as a baby.

She was quiet and gentle, and never had a bad thing to say about anyone. She was good and pure, qualities that Abraxas would never possess or understand.

He was surprised when their father allowed Nebula to have an albino peacock, after years of pleading. Of course, Abraxas knew his father only allowed such an indulgence because of their mother being sent away.

It was more to keep Nebula quiet, and the only way he knew how to show affection to his daughter.

Abraxas remembered how his sister threw her arms around their father and thanked him profusely.

"She's perfect, father! Thank you!" she said softly. Nebula had a voice equal to her child-like beauty. Her wide grey eyes were clear and held a light that no other Malfoy possessed.

It was the first time Abraxas saw his father swing Nebula into his arms to hold her.

Abraxas never admitted it, but he secretly wished he could show such emotion to their father. But such a thing would never be permitted.

Abraxas cherished Nebula from afar, and seeing her peacock roam the garden warmed his heart.

Never-the-less, he stayed away from his sister and made as little contact as possible. The path Abraxas walked wasn't one he wanted for his sister.

As the next head of the family, Abraxas understood the role he would have to play. He needed to ensure the Malfoy family's survival and keep their prestigious rank and influence in society. He couldn't show any signs of weakness, nor could he allow Nebula to burden what was his to shoulder.

However, Abraxas knew he had failed Nebula in keeping safe and blissfully ignorant. He now understood the Flamel's sibling relationship, and how Harry and Ron could be so protective of their sister.

Abraxas remembered Harry Flamel's words, the first night they arrived at Hogwarts.

"Our sisters are the pride of a pureblood family! The world will see how we regard them, and in turn show them the utmost respect. Treat them as ladies and the world will regard them as queens. Treat them with indifference, and watch the world use them as a footstool."

Those words would haunt him forever.

Abraxas felt like a fool. What had he done in brushing off his sister? And who would dare strike out at a Malfoy?

Whatever the reason, and whoever had done this, would pay dearly.

Abraxas was going to war. He would find out who had harmed Nebula, and when he did, Abraxas vowed to destroy them.

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When Hermione woke, there were two things she knew for certain.

One, it was still dark out. The moonlight shining through her dorm window told her as much.

And two she was not alone.

It wasn't the presence of her Slytherin dorm mates that jolted her upright…

But the weight of someone straddling her hips.

She opened her mouth to scream but was instantly shut by a harsh slap across the cheek.

"I told you the next time you touch me, I would make your skin rot off in your sleep," Tom laughed bitterly "but this works too."

Again, she was slapped, causing her so much pain that her lip split open.

One hand pinned her wrists above her head and the other squeezed her throat.

A fierce giggle of hysteric glee shook out of Tom that made his whole-body shudder. It was then that Hermione realized he was crying…Tom was actually crying.

She could feel the blood throb in her ears. Hermione stared up at Tom who continued to giggle as he cried. His tears landed on her neck, and for one chilling moment Hermione was truly afraid.

"I bet you thought yourself rather clever, leaving me like that." Tom's voice shook whispered in her ear.

He smelled like dried blood, earth, and sweat.

"You broke my ribs…my nose, and cheekbone!" He let out a shout of irrepressible laughter, then leaned down so close they were almost kissing "you're just as evil as I am, with the face of an angel!"

An eerie stillness followed his words, and for a moment he seemed so self-contained. His face transformed itself, as if it were melting with rage. The façade fell, and it seemed his perfect face were collapsing upon itself.

"Everything is ruined!" Toms voice shot out of him like a snake "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?! THEY SNAPPED MY WAND! BECAUSE OF YOU, THEY DESTROYED IT!"

Hermione eyes darted towards her sleeping housemates who did not stir.

Silencing charm.

"I was gaining the vampires trust, and you" Tom squeezed her neck tighter "ruined everything!"

"You're deranged… t-to blame it on… me!" Hermione choked out in a voice which faltered so badly, she could barely understand her own words.

The pain became as clear as light.

There was no way Hermione could fight at this angle, her upper body was limited, and Tom was physically stronger than he looked.

But growing up alongside Ron, Fred, and George had taught her a lot.

Or rather, watching Ginny Weasley had taught her a lot.

Hermione knew Tom wasn't bluffing. He'd been pushed too far.

Despite her predicament, one thought repeated itself over and over in her head- 'His wand that would take so many lives, is destroyed!'

Dizziness began to overwhelm her and brought her back to the present. He would kill her if she gave up now.

No, that wasn't a fucking option!

Hermione brought up her left knee against Toms right buttock and pushed up with all her might.

This gave her a small window of opportunity which she took. She laid her left leg down over his right and then pushed up with her right leg and hip.

The shift was instantaneous, and suddenly they flipped. Hermione now straddled Tom, who stared up with a mixture of disbelief, and hatred.

The hand over her wrist loosened during the shift, allowing Hermione free reign.

Tom grabbed her neck with his free hand, so both were now locked around her neck.

She felt dizzy, but had enough strength left to bind him with a flick of her hand.

His hands were bound by invisible ropes above his head. His ankles slammed together, and just like that Tom was completely immobile.

Hermione took pleasure in how the invisible ropes tightened around his body. She could see the outlining of thin marks begin to dig into his skin.

He groaned and threw his dark head back against the headboard.

And then he stilled.

His blood red eyes glistened in the darkness. They held so much hatred, more than Hermione thought any human could.

She was straddling him now and bent low, so that her face was inches from his own. Her long soft curls curtained around Toms face, caressing his ears and neck.

Hermione waved her hand around herself, closing the curtains.

"They broke my wand." Tom breathed helplessly, looking as if his hand had been cut off.

"I know." Hermione said without remorse, her golden eyes hard "And you deserved it… After what you tried to do to Nebula Malfoy… What you've been doing to her."

"Jealous?" Tom shifted his hips, causing a pleasing sensation to squirm between her legs.

"Repulsed." Hermione spat inches from Toms face.

It was at that moment, where Tom seemed most venerable, that Hermione let her guard down.

She felt a dark energy rolling off Tom's skin. He hated her, and yet he couldn't help shifting his hips again.

His red eyes wandered down her long neck, past her clavicles, to her cleavage.

Her thin white gown did little to conceal her nipples poking through.

Toms red eyes flared with hunger as he studied the outline of her breasts.

Hermione had enough and grabbed a fistful of Toms black curls. She yanked back his head so that his eyes were forced to meet hers.

This only seemed to entice him even more.

Just when Hermione felt the urge to rip out a chunk of his perfect hair, Tom stared deeply into her eyes.

So deeply that Hermione couldn't look away.

He let out a small satisfied laugh, and at that moment Hermione felt a surge of magic from Tom.

"Legilimens!" He cast triumphantly, with as much power as he could.

Hermione couldn't move.

She hadn't anticipated that attack.

Hermione never had her mind invaded before, and for the first time she felt very sorry for ever scolding Harry about slacking in his lessons with Snape.

The attack was brutal. It was as if her mind were suddenly pulled into a blender and being hacked to bits.

No! No-no-no! Get out!

The pressure was intense and after a horrifying moment, Hermione realized that Tom Riddle was inside of her mind…

And there wasn't anything she could do about it.

She was overwhelmed by a flood of images and sounds.

When they landed, the scenes were as clear as the present.

They had landed in the first memory.

Jets of blue and silver curses rained against the stone columns where Harry, Ron, and Hermione ducked behind.

They were miles below Gringotts, surrounded by the Gringotts security team.

"We can't just stand here!" Hermione cried, securing her bottomless bag around her waist "whose got an idea?!"

"You're the brilliant one!" Ron shot back at her, pulling Harry closer to his chest.

"I've got something- but its mad!" She shouted, shaking her head.

Hermione dodged a silver curse as she flung out her wand and shouted "REDUCTO!"

The wrought iron railing blasted to pieces.

Ron and Harry gave one another identical looks of shaken disbelief.

Hermione backed up as far as she could before sprinting off the ledge of stone, and onto the back of a pale Ironclad Dragon.

Hermione fought to steer Tom away from the memory, but she was unable to touch him or push him out.

He was mesmerized by the memory and stared at how fearless Hermione was in wonder. She could feel his anger leaving him, and how transfixed he had suddenly become.

He also noticed how very different the trio looked.

They were starved, ragged, and sickly pale. Tom noticed that they're skin did not have a sheen, nor were their eyes gold.

The memory of Ron and Harry also stared in amazement as Hermione fearlessly swung her leg over one of the dragon's spine spikes.

Her black dress was tearing to shreds, and slicing her palms open, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Well come on then!" she hollered impatiently.

A moment later Hermione, Ron, and Harry were flying upward, and broke through the top of Gringotts and flew off towards freedom.

The memory shifted.

They landed outside the Great Hall where music and voices could be heard.

"He's using you Hermione!" shouted Ron, who wore a ghastly burgundy frock.

They were fourteen -years- old and stomping out of the Yule Ball.

"How dare you!" Hermione shouted right back, following behind Ron, wearing a stunning gown of periwinkle blue.

Tom followed her younger self, his red eyes assessing everything he saw, and how very different Hermione looked. She wasn't ugly, yet she looked nothing like the Hermione Flamel he knew.

"and besides- I can take care of myself!"

"Doubt it. He's way too old!" Ron scoffed, shoving his hand in his pockets.

Ron Flamel wore a look of obvious jealousy, and anger which intrigued Tom further.

"WHAT?!" Hermione's younger self practically screamed "Is that what you think?!"

"Yeah, that's what I think!"

"Then you know the solution, don't you?" Hermione sobbed, rushing forward to face Ron who stopped dead in his tracks.

Tom watched Hermione's tears spill over her innocent face. It wasn't a face he recognized, and yet he couldn't look away.

This fourteen-year-old Hermione had a purity he couldn't describe. Her hazel eyes didn't have a haunted look about them, despite how red rimmed and puffy they looked.

"Next time there's a ball, pluck up the courage and ask me before somebody else does!" Hermione cried, causing her curls to tumble down one by one "And not as a last resort!"

"Get out of my head!" Hermione screamed at Tom, "GET OUT NOW!"

She could hear Toms mocking laughter as the scene shifted again.

"Hermione Jean Granger!"

Toms red eyes widened as a little girl stepped through him, like a ghost.

"Granger?" He whispered, shaking his head.

He looked around the Great Hall. It was the same, yet somehow different.

He noticed Professor Dumbledore sitting in Headmaster Dippet's chair at the head table.

He no longer had auburn hair, but white, long locks that were nearly as long as his silver beard.

Whatever the reason there was only one logical explanation for this…

This was a much older Dumbledore.

This was not a scene from his own time.

This was the future.

Tom's breathing quickened as he turned back to the scene at had.

Little Hermione ascended the steps to where a rickety stool stood. The Sorting Hat was lifted and placed on her head.

Tom saw her knobby knees, her buck teeth, her frizzy curls, and wide smile.

He turned back to look at Hermione Flamel, not bothering to watch the scene unfold.

Hermione Flamel was otherworldly, with indescribable beauty and grace. She was regal without a physical flaw about her. Her hair lay in long curling ringlets at her waist, her eyes were bright and golden, her skin had a sheen to it that reminded Tom of moonlight.

This eleven-year-old Hermione Granger was anything but.

He could see that Hermione Flamel was trying hard to throw him out…but she was panicking, which made invading her mind all the easier.

And then the Sorting Hats voice rang out from behind him.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Thunderous applause followed as little Hermione ran through Toms midsection and skipped towards the scarlett and gold table.

The applause echoed out of existence.

A swirl of color, and the memory disappeared.

Tom couldn't comprehend everything he saw, and yet he knew them to be the truth.

It was night time and the moon shined down on an emaciated figure, in the middle of a forest.

The gaunt figure turned, and Tom knew instantly that it was Hermione.

She was pulling bark off a nearby tree and fell to her knees as she desperately shoved it into her mouth.

Tom took a small horrified step back.

Then without warning Harry peeked out of a worn tent that stood behind her.

The raven-haired boy watched in terrible panic as Hermione began vomiting

Another memory caused Tom and Hermione to land near another forest...the Forbidden Forest.

A younger Harry and Hermione stood side by side at the top of a hill.

Below, a werewolf approached a dark-haired figure in the distance.

The werewolf lifted his claws as if to rip the figure to pieces, when the younger Hermione lifted stepped forward.

Tom watched in horror as she cupped her hands against her mouth and howled.

The wolf stilled and jerked towards her howl.

Tom resisted the urge to run, remembering this was only a memory.

The wolf dropped on all fours and began tearing after them at full force.

The image was terrifying, but not as terrifying as the next memory

Hogwarts in flames.

All manner of dark creature and wizard laid siege to the castle and its students.

Giants tore students apart while they screamed horrendously.

Dementors blanketed the skies.

Curses and explosions hailing down body parts and debris. The school was crumbling.

Tom wanted to scream. This was his home and it was being destroyed! How could this have happened?!

Suddenly, Hermione, Ron, and Harry were running through the courtyard in what could only be described as an apocalypse.

Hermione waved her wand towards a fallen statue and hurled it through the air.

It smashed through twenty or so wizards in black cloaks and silver masks, crushing them horribly.

Hermione seemed mad in the midst of battle.

She defended Ron and Harry ruthlessly, as they ran through the castle.

After a while Tom stopped counting how many she had killed. There were too many. Tom couldn't understand how this could have happened. How could Hogwarts have fallen to such atrocity?!

But Tom understood their roles.

Hermione's brilliance and wand work kept them alive.

Ron's analytical abilities with strategy and muscle made for a formidable figure.

And he finally understood why Harry seemed to have a commanding personality. Despite his small stature and delicate bone structure, he was casually a frightening thing to behold.

Both students, teachers, and Aurors followed his commands as if he were their only hope.

They clung to Harrys instruction for dear life, and even Tom had to admit what an impressive leader he made.

An explosion shook the school. Ravenclaw tower crumbled.

Tom could hear the screams of students still in the tower as it fell. It was a sound he would not easily forget.

The smell of smoke filled the air, and in the distance, Tom could see the Quidditch field was in flames.

The horror didn't stop.

Hogwarts had always been a place of safely…. but this was as if Hell itself had opened up and poured out its unholy terror.

Tom turned to Hermione Flamel, shaking his head.

"How?" He whispered, hating how fragile he sounded "What… happen?"

When Hermione Flamel looked up at Tom, her expression was savage and utterly betrayed.

"You happened!" she screamed as they were pulled into another memory.

Hermione screamed on the floor of Malfoy Manor. She screamed in such a way that might have indicated she was possessed by a demon.

A tall blond man, who resembled Abraxas, brought down a thin razor-like whip across Hermione's back.

Her screams grew louder with every blow.

"You did this!" Hermione Flamel screamed hysterically at Tom.

All at once Hermione felt like she was breaking into pieces. Tom had seen into her mind and there wasn't anything she could do to stop it.

She broke down as if all the different masks she had ever worn were breaking to bits. At that moment she hated Tom more than she had ever hated the Lord Voldemort of her time.

She had deluded herself into thinking she could befriend the boy. She lied to herself repeatedly that redemption was possible.

There was something deep rooted in Tom Riddle that so amount of goodness could remove.

The evil that lived within him was ineradicable.

"How perfect you look Miss Granger!" Lucius's velvety voice laughed, striking her again "Finally, after all these years of being an uppity Mudblood with above average intellect, you found your proper place!"

Another blow.

Another scream.

In the shadows another blonde figure watched on in horror as his father slipped on his Death Eater mask.

Tom shook his head in trepidation and denial.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

He had recently, in secret, crafted masks just like that for Abraxas, Avery, Orion, and Lestarange…

To see this wizard wearing one, could only mean one thing.

Tom wanted to vomit.

"You thought you were so clever- you all did, and look at you now!" Lucius was no longer laughing, his voice bellowed with anger through the mask "My Lord may have taken my wand to use for his glorious purpose, but even now you can see which one of us is truly superior!"

He didn't want to believe it.

My Lord?... No, surely he didn't mean—

"Enough Lucius! Its my turn!" a crazed witch cackled in a baby voice, twirling a black dagger in hand.

Tom turned, wondering if the blond boy in the shadows would come to the rescue, but he remained frozen in wide-eyed horror.

The state of Malfoy Manor had lost its light. The elegance was still there, but it seemed darker- haunted even.

Tom remembered being invited to balls during the summer holidays at Malfoy Manor.

The glitter and majesty of the manor was gone.

The life and noble honor of its occupants had been tarnished.

There was nothing within these marble walls, but pain.

He wondered what Abraxas would have thought at such a sight transpiring to the ancestral home he was so proud of.

The memory of Hermione Granger shrieked again in such a way that forced Tom to clutch his ears to drown them out.

"That sword was meant to be in my vault at Gringotts- how did you get it?" snarled the crazed witch with thick, shining dark hair, long eyelashes and heavily hooded eyes.

She moved to straddled Hermione and spat in her face.

Lucius leaned back against a pillar, watching with twisted amusement.

Despite his noble blood and elegance, he looked haggard and hallowed eyed.

His fine clothes hung off him like an extra skin, and Tom thought he looked more like a prisoner or war than a refined pureblood.

"I d-didn't take anything-please!" Hermione cried terribly "I DIDN'T TAKE ANYTHING!

There was an instantaneous moment where Tom felt the compulsion to curse the crazed witch away from Hermione. He wanted to light the bitch on fire. He wanted to scoop out her eyes with his finger…He wanted to kill every last one of them.

Tom staggered backwards at the thoughts bombarding his mind.

Why were these feelings compelling him to feel this way?

He tried to drive them out of his mind.

But it didn't work. He couldn't shut them out. This was just a memory, and yet there was nothing he could do to stop the drive he felt to protect the girl he tried to kill himself.

It was moments ago that he felt this urge, and yet it seemed like a lifetime ago that he straddled Hermione and slapped her with all his strength.

"No, I don't believe you!" the crazed witch whispered in that horrible baby voice, as she pulled out a sharp dagger.

Hermione's screams were unnatural, and animalistic as her head was jerked to the side.

Tom didn't recognize this Hermione and seeing her in such a position only angered him.

Her heels thumped wildly against the marble floor as the dagger sliced into her arm.

M-U-D-B-L-O-O-D

Tom froze at the sight of the gory word carved into her arm.

He looked up to find Hermione Flamel staring down at the memory of herself being tortured.

Her eyes were filled with revulsion.

"Get out." She whispered to Tom, without turning to him. Her voice was so weak that Tom regretted ever invading her mind…still he couldn't stop himself.

"Please get out."

She hadn't moved, and yet it seemed to Tom that the invisible strings holding her up had broken. And like a pretty puppet, she slumped to her knees.

"Wha—"

"Ah Fenrir!" Lucius called from his pillar "Come in! Bella wanted to apologize for that little outburst earlier- and we've decided to give you a little reward on out Lord Voldemort's behalf! Isn't that right, Bella?"

Voldemort…

Lord Voldemort…

Tom hadn't noticed that he had been stepping back, until he stood shoulder to shoulder with the blond boy, hiding in the shadows.

A hulking half transformed werewolf strode into the ballroom, rubbing his neck.

"Draco, come!" Lucius called his son as he drank down his glass of wine "Its time you understand the true worth of a mudblood and our place in this world."

Beside Tom the blond boy flinched but obeyed his father.

He could see the boy looking between the werewolf and Hermione with dread and panic.

"Father, please—"

"Bella come. Obviously, your tactics aren't working." Lucius laughed, ignoring his son "I think its time we reward Fenrir for his services to us in bringing Potter and his lackies."

"I suppose Greyback can break her first!" Bella smiled down at Hermione, slashing the dagger down to slice open her blouse.

Fenrir…Greyback…why was that name so familiar to Tom?

Hermione was too weak to move, and in a matter of seconds Hermione was naked.

"Get us out of here!" Hermione Flamel cried, clutching the sides of her head "I WANT OUT NOW! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT! YOU'VE WON- PLEASE!"

But Tom didn't move.

Hermione was laying facedown with her hands pinned against her lower back.

Blood covered the ballroom floor of Malfoy Manor.

"LET ME OUT!" Hermione begged, her magic flared out causing the connection to distort.

The memory of the werewolf, pried open her legs.

Hermione, still fought, even in her weakened state, but she was no match for the beast.

For what seemed like ages Fenrir pounded into her mercilessly.

Her screams caused Draco to break down and run from the ballroom in terror and self hatred.

Fenrir gabbed Hermione's wrists as she lay face down and pulled them back as he violently fucked her.

Her eyes began to roll into her skull, and after a few more moments of screaming, she fainted.

The memory disappeared, but the image and screams remained with Tom.

As Tom and Hermione landed in another scene Tom noticed how utterly silent Hermione became.

Her golden eyes had glazed over as if she were still reliving the memory of her torture.

Tom wanted to say something. He wanted to break Hermione from her catatonic stupor.

Her ridged muscles and dazed expression startled Tom, and instantly he knew he had gone too far into her mind.

A memory swirled into existence until they were back, in the burning courtyard of Hogwarts.

Hermione slammed the hilt of her dagger into the eye socket of a Death Eater.

She was wild, using blasting curses and hurling giant stones, which were once part of the school.

She smashed the skulls of dark wizards and eviscerated any who stood in her way.

There was a crazed look in her hazel eyes.

She stood back to back with Ron, who was drenched in blood which was not his own. She was exhausted, malnourished, and weak as if she might fall over at any moment.

She stumbled forward, holding her wand out with a shaking hand.

"Don't you fucking dare give up now!" Ron shouted from behind Hermione, grabbing her hand "Show those bastards why you're the most brilliant witch of our age! Fight goddammit!"

And fight Hermione did. Ron's words seemed to be all she needed.

The Order fought off Death Eaters, while monsters devoured children.

Professors were ripped in half by giants.

Werewolves mauled girls.

Dementors sucked the souls of students, who fell like flies around the battlefield.

Tom stared up at the burning Astronomy Tower to see small figures being thrown out by Death Eaters in silver masks.

Tom's masks.

The figures screamed as they fell and landed with a sickening 'THUD!'.

Tom's Deatheaters.

Another scream. Another 'THUD!'.

This was his doing. This was all his fault…

Even though it was nighttime the sky blazed with fiery light from the castle and Quidditch pitch.

Tom wanted to scream, he wanted to stop them, we wanted to fight by Hermione's side against these devils!

Then quite suddenly there fell a deafening silence.

Tom heard a small gasp from Hermione Flamel and turned to find her looking over his shoulder with a frozen expression of utter fear.

Tom slowly turned to find the most horrific wizard he had ever seen…if you could even call him a wizard.

The tall skeletal figure was draped in a black hooded cloak. His skin was waxy, almost opaque in texture, and deathly pale.

He was gaunt to the point of emaciation, his desiccated skin pulled tightly over his bones.

The figures bones pushed out against its skin, his complexion was ash gray, and the wizard's eyes pushed back deep into his sockets. The Dark Wizard looked like a gaunt skeleton recently disinterred from the grave.

His disfigured face held no nose, but instead had two flat slits- like a snake.

The whites of his hallow shaped eyes were red, and his horribly crooked teeth seemed to have been filled to nubs.

His spidery fingers clutched what looked like Dumbledore's wand, and it was pointed at none other than Harry.

Tom understood why Hermione froze in fear. He had never seen someone so monstrous before.

"Its all you've got left!" Harry roared at the monster "I've seen what you'll become otherwise! Please! Can't you understand? Be a man!...Try…"

Tom didn't know why Harry would plead with such a creature.

It filled him with rage that Harry did not immediately take the kill shot.

"Kill it!" Tom urged the memory of Harry "Kill it now!"

It was obvious that THIs creature had caused the carnage. The monster deserved to be flayed alive. It didn't deserve mercy.

"Try for some remorse…" Harry practically cried "I beg you Tom!"

The world seemed to fall out from beneath Tom as Harry cried out his name.

It was as if someone had poured white hot coals into his chest and sewed it back up.

This obscenity truly was his fault. Hermione was right.

His fingers went numb.

His mouth went slack.

Slowly, Tom glanced down at a fallen Death Eaters. He studied the mask with wide- terror filled eyes.

HIS masks…

Tom looked back up and found Harry in tears as he faced down Toms future self.

"For your soul, you can become human again!"

Tom couldn't believe anyone would try and save him at such a lost state. Seeing Harry beg on his behalf shook Toms very core. He felt himself fall to his knees at such a sight. He felt tears pouring down his face. He heard himself crying out like a child, shaking his head.

Voldemort threw back his head and laughed a high pitched decrepit laugh.

"No," Tom shook his head, turning to Hermione "Its not true! It's a lie! I WON'T BECOME THIS!"

The two wizards threw their wands towards one another. From one wand came a red light, and from the other came a deadly green light.

Tom watched as the killing curse rebounded on the dark wizard, hitting him square in the chest.

His chest…

The force from the curse threw back the monster, who fell against the rubble like a rag doll.

The monster was dead.

Tom was dead.

The battle was over.

The Death Eaters apparated away.

And the golden trio huddled against one another around the dead…looking dead themselves.

"He's gone. Its over Mione!" Ron cried kissing Hermione's dirty cheeks.

Hermione stared at Voldemort's corpse in pure horror, shaking her head frantically.

"Its not over…it'll never be over." The memory of Hermione whispered as the memory faded.

Tom finally allowed the connection to break, and as they appeared in Hermione Flamel's bed.

The spell that bound his body with invisible ropes had broke.

Hermione gasped as the bombarding of memories ceased.

Her mind had been raped more brutally than her body ever had.

She fell back against Toms shins, shaking violently, and so close to passing out.

It was that moment that Tom sat up and grabbed her wand from beneath her pillow before she could gather enough strength to lift a finger against him.

He sat up and pointed Hermione Flamel's wand against her temple.

"Obliviate!" Toms voice trembled in a blind panic, shaking nearly as hard as Hermione

And just like that Hermione's golden eyes glazed over as the spell penetrated her already weakened mind.

She fell back against the pillows limply, and lost consciousness.

Tom sat in Hermione's bed for what seemed like ages. He stared down at Hermione as if she were the most precious thing he had ever seen and reached out to touch her hand. He held it in his, staring down at it not wanting to let it go.

Slowly, he pulled up the sleeve of her nightgown. He stared at the jagged scar that marred her forearm and felt as if the world had fallen out from beneath his feet. He felt lost, and numb.

MUDBLOOD

His broken ribs, nose, and cheekbone throbbed painfully, but he didn't pay it any mind.

Tom carefully pulled her sleeve back down but did not immediately move from where he sat.

His wand had been snapped and all Tom had left was a single Phoenix feather in his pocket.

His entire life had changed in a matter of moments, and all Tom could think of was Hermione, and his own death. His obsession with the thought of immortality and death didn't seem as appealing now…

In that single moment, Tom wished that he had never made two horcruxes.

As suddenly as the thought laid upon his heart, something happened. Tom felt an unexpected flair of pain shoot through his body. He cried out as he clutched Hermione's bedsheets. The pain gradually increased

Tom sat back, forcing a fist into his mouth, and bit down hard to keep from crying out.

He stood and left the dorm as fast as he could, leaving Hermione's wand by her bedside table.

He was covered in cold sweat, and his heart pounded in a panic at everything he had just seen.

He ran through the common room and out of the Slytherin Dungeon as fast as he could manage.

Tom wanted to scream from the pain coursing through his body.

Finally, he reached the First-Floor girls toilets and hissed in pausaltongue for The Chamber of Secrets to be opened. Tom threw himself down the dark hole and slid hundreds of feet below the school.

He wanted to cry out in denial about the future he had witnessed through Hermione Flamel's mind.

But there was no doubting the truth he had just seen.

Tom saw what he would become.

Tom saw his own death.

And for the first time, Tom was sorry. He regretted ever making his horcruxes' .

Even as the thought crossed his mind again, Tom screamed in absolute anguish as unspeakable pain ripped at his very soul.

.

{Flashback- December 24, 1899}

Gellert Grindlewald took Albus by the hand and ran through the glittering corridors of Dior Château.

The massive windows poured in sunshine, despite the several feet of snow which lay in perfect untouched layers outside. The sunlight reflected in the white marble and gold leaf ornaments. The Pyrenees Mountains of France surrounded the Château, and it seemed perfect in every way.

It was Christmas Eve, and Albus was able to spend his last holiday away from school with Gellert, much to the blond boy's delight. Nicholas had offered to work with the boys, and guide them under his tutelage, as they were the most promising wizards of their age.

Gelllert Grindelwald pulled Albus into a room filled with golden statues and shut the door with a snap.

'My god, I never knew there was someone as brilliant as me, as talented as me, as powerful as me! Together we are unstoppable', Young Gellert thought as he pushed Albus against a nearby desk and began shoving the fabric of his robes aside 'I would do anything to have him on my side! Such a world order we could create together!'

He stepped in between Albus's legs and pushed the beautiful auburn- haired boy back against the chestnut desk.

'With Flamel's secrets of the Hallows, we can do anything!' Gellert swooped down to capture the boys mouth. 'If only I had all three Hallows! If only I knew Flamel's secrets.'

Albus's blue eyes met those of Gellert's blue and grey ones, as their bodies pressed against one another's in a fleeting moment of pure bliss, and happiness.

{End of flashback}

Gellert Grindelwald held court in an ancient castle, far above the Swiss mountains. It was one of his many hidden 'palaces' around the world.

This one was located within what appeared to be a cave within the side of a foreboding mountain.

Gellert sat among thirty individuals at a giant round stone table.

Power radiated off his guests, each as different as the next.

To Gellert's right was a werewolf by the name of Adolfo.

Adolfo had broad shoulders and wore only a pair of fur trousers which reeked of earth and old blood.

His narrow yellow eyes scanned the hall before flickering back to Gellert.

"I smell the dead." Adolfo growled menacingly, carving claw marks against the edge of the table with his gnarled nails.

"That isn't necessary, my friend." Gellert smiled rising to stand as their last guest strode through the hall.

"Trochar, won't you join us? We've been anticipating your arrival for some time now." Gellert offered the seat to his left politely.

The vampire's black eyes met those of Adolfo, narrowing a fraction.

"Forgive my tardiness, I ran into a bit of trouble last night." Trochar bowed before striding around the table to take a seat.

Trochar passed an Unseelie Fae by the name of Tabitah, who winked seductively at Trochar as he passed.

The Goblin King, Retel, threw the vampire a glare. He was a stout, yet regal figure with gold rings on each calloused finger, and a velvet clothes.

Meanwhile, The Wendigo Alpha stared into open space with a dead vacant expression.

The cannibalistic creature made no motion to acknowledge the vampire, Trochar, but remained utterly silent and still.

Among the other creatures were dark elves, banshees, giants, silver haired Veelas, and various witches and wizards.

Trochar sat to the left of Gellert, while Adolfo continued to growl to his right.

"You say you ran into trouble last night, Lord Trochar?" Gellert asked curiously, standing to pull out the vampire's chair.

"An Angel Orb to be precise." Trochar hissed, obviously uncomfortable about having been momentarily weakened.

He took the seat offered to him, throwing Adolfo a withering look.

Gellert Grindelwald studied the vampires skin which appeared as white and untouched as it always had.

"but surely you would be suffering the side effects?" Gellert commented curiously.

"I'm stronger than I have ever been, thank you." Trochar snapped, folding his long arms over his narrow chest.

Gellert knew there must have been more to the story but dropped the subject.

He turned back to face his guests,

"I have gathered you all today in preparation for an assault on Britain." Gellert stood to circle the table.

"Our efforts have succeeded in taking Bulgaria, Romania, Ukraine, Italy, and now France! Our followers stormed the French Ministry yesterday morning, with little effort. The country is now under our leadership with the Unseelie King as its head. But this is only the beginning. It seems that America's 'First Salem Philanthropic Society' has grown past it borders towards Europe."

Gellert paused seeing a few confused faces.

"More commonly known as the Second Salemers, who have gained popularity from its leader Modesty Barebone." Gellert smiled disparagingly "They've exposed countless wizards, and magical beings of our world. They're no longer just a small group of ragged street children, and they no longer seek to eliminate the few- but ALL of us!"

Gellert beat his chest with his fist passionately.

"The muggles are no longer satisfied with confining us to small areas to live in, like cattle! They want us completely eradicated!" Gellert had everyone's attention now, even the gaunt Wendigo who exposed a row of sharp teeth threateningly

"And what of our world? The laws of our world have us scuttling like rats in the gutter. They must be done away with, along with the governing bodies. The Ministry of France has fallen, and soon the laws that demands that we conceal our true nature. Laws that direct those under its dominion to cower in fear, lest we risk discovery. I ask you, I ask all of you — who does this law protect? Us, or them? It certainly didn't protect the three werewolf cubs The Second Salemers tortured and burned at the stake last week!"

Adolfo flashed his teeth, slamming his fist against the stone table, causing it to crack.

"How could these muggles have found us out?!" Adolfo roared, shaking with fury "The statue of secrecy was created to prevent such knowledge! You propose we eliminate it, but what will become of us when every muggle on earth finds out about our world?!"

The vampire, Trochar, stared down at his white hands, flexing them, then sat up, turning to face the werewolf.

"This society has kept us in submission for so long, that we have forgotten our strength- our power." Trochar spoke in a velvety voice "I know better than anyone the power within blood. I've drank from nearly every creature upon this earth, and I've learned many things…the most important of all, is how very feeble human blood is. Muggles have power because they took it and claimed it as theirs. The wizarding world did the same over the vampires, and every other magical creature they considered to be less than pure."

"And if we want power, we must continue to do what we have been doing all along!" Gellert nodded to the vampire "We must take it and claim it- by force!"

Adolfo stared at the vampire with disdain for a moment longer. He clenched his large fists as he slowly turned to face the blonde middle-aged wizard.

"This doesn't explain how the muggles know of our existence, Grindelwald." Adolfo sneered, flashing his sharp elongated teeth "How could a group of muggles- these 'Second Salemers', know of us?"

Gellert fixed his blue and grey heterochromia eyes on the towering ceiling space, where a dark ash- colored, tendril cloud swirled in the shadows.

He smiled as he fixed his mixed matched eyes on the specter, causing the rest of the table to raise their eyes upwards.

"Hello Credence." Gellert whispered in a deep voiced filled with amusement.

Suddenly a horrible shrieking noise blasted through the hall, causing the foundation of the palace to shake from the force.

The dark tendrils spiraled around the room, engulfing the space like a flock of locus.

The shadow shot towards Gellert, but stopped short, hovering above his blonde head.

The black cloud reformed itself and took on a solid shape.

The shape became a young man with jet black hair, a tattered black frock coat, and an equally tattered wide brimmed hat.

The whites of his eyes were completely black and made the young man appear almost demonic.

The young man sat floating in the air, with one leg crossed over the other, and his sharp chin resting in his hand. His expression was hard and cold.

Even the vacant expression of the cannibalistic Wendigo seemed warmer in comparison to the young man.

"Mr. Graves." The young man acknowledged Gellert in an American accent. "Long time no see."

"I knew you would come." Gellert smiled kindly at the floating man, who did not reciprocate the smile. "Its been too long."

"Not long enough, Mr. Graves." Credence sneered bitterly, turning away from the sixty-year-old wizard.

Credence's American accent was hard and held no room for reconciliation between Gellert and himself.

"Gellert, please." Gellert offered, smiling proudly at how powerful Credence had become. "I haven't been Mr. Graves for nineteen years, now."

Credence ignored Gellert, and turned to face the group gathered, studying the occupants with cold indifference.

"This gathering is important," Credence said quietly, taking Gellert's seat at the table as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I was a victim of the Second Salemers. I know how they think, and I know better than anyone their mission. Which is why I'm here. This world needs a new order…that is the only reason I came, Mr. Graves. This entire, miserable world needs a new world order."

Trochar observed the young man carefully with his vampiric eyes. He studied the threatening tendrils of black cloud around Credence with a frown.

"But I wonder if such a change will preserve and guard my people or if it will annihilate us. Such things must be considered…especially now that we have an Obscurial on our side" Trochar smiled slowly, the tale-tell fangs peeking out from behind his lips. "Or did you not consider how volatile such a dark creature is to the cause, Grindelwald? Or Perhaps you thought us ignorant enough to accept this?"

Credence let out a small laugh.

Gellert smiled patiently as he continued to slowly walk around the table.

"How old would you say Credence is?" Gellert asked "Sixteen? Seventeen?"

All eyes turned to observe Credence, who smiled darkly from beneath his wide brim hat.

"An Obscurial has never, in recorded history of magic, survived past the age of ten. Yet, here Credence sits- at the age of thirty-nine-years-old!"

"How this possible?" The half giant Rolo boomed over the flurry of discussions and voices that rang out in surprise.

The dark cloud that swirled slowly around Credence began to build up, almost protectively and on its own free will.

"The muggle suppressed my magic. Like in ancient times when muggles hunted us, I tried to hide my ability. I had an immense amount of latent magical power, which I was forced to bury. I buried it so far down that it became volatile and lashed out when it felt most threatened. It was a parasitical force, and yet I felt that it wanted to protect me, and my magic…what was left of it." Credence said in a dead sort of tone, throwing a filthy glare at Gellert Grindelwald.

"I allowed myself to be manipulated and used, but not for long. As I allowed my Obscurial form to take over completely, I was attacked by the very community I yearned to be a part of. The American Ministry attacked me. It was then I knew neither world would ever be a place of freedom or acceptance. They bombarded me with spells until the Obscurial seemed to implode. The pain was intense, and I only remember screaming. However, I didn't die. Instead the Obscurial retreated into my magical core and slowly over the years I was able to take on a physical form. It is no longer volatile, but rather instinctive and protective. I can command it, just as easily as I can command my limbs. I am one with it and it is one with me."

Cold amusement rolled off Credence as he glared triumphantly at Gellert, as if he had come out as a victor in an unknown game that was being played. Gellert gave the young man a slight bow, fixing his pale, mixed matched eyes in approval.

"Credence, is just one example of what muggle society, and the magical one has planned for our world. And if we allow one group of muggles to continue this senseless persecution of our people- how many more will we give leave to? A new world order is unavoidable to ensure our survival!"

Around the table creatures, both dark and light, clapped and banged the stone table in solidarity and support. The only two who still seemed dubious was the werewolf Aldofo, and Trochar the vampire who remained as still as a statue.

"There is a quote I'm particularly fond of 'The lion cannot protect himself from traps, and the fox cannot defend himself from wolves. One must therefore be a fox to recognize traps, and a lion to frighten wolves'. If we are to bring about world order and peace, we must become a power that can lead both the muggle and wizarding world." Grindelwald continued passionately, fingering the Elder Wand from within his coat pocket "And for us to become such a power…we will need two items to complete the Hallows."

"The stone and the cloak are lost." Tabitha the Unseelie Fae, sighed dispassionately. "we've searched for them. It is impossible to find such rare items without finding the masters that possess them."

"Or its creator, Nicholas Flamel." Grindelwald said knowingly, missing the sharp look that came from Trochar "However, upon taking control of France, I discovered that Flamel and his wife had fled. To where I do not know, but it is imperative that we find out—"

"Flamel you say?" Trochar halted drumming his waxy pale fingers against the stone table "As in the Alchemist?"

Credence and to the others turned to the vampire expectantly.

"Yes, Lord Trochar?" Gellert stopped in his tracks, his mixed matched blue and grey eye fixed firmly on the vampire. "Is there something you know?"

"The girl told me that it was an alchemist that…" Trochar muttered to himself, running a pale hand through his black hair.

"My Lord Trochar, if you have something—"

"It was an alchemist that threw the angel orb that wounded me and killed off many of my children! It was Nicholas Flamel!" Trochar spat venomously, rising to his feet. Fury filled Trochar's heart as he remembered the screams of his fledglings burning to death. The memory of the pain…and her words.

Her words he so wanted to believe…and after the Blood sacrifice she gave to him.

"Hermione Flamel," Trochar hissed, distraught and enraged beyond comprehension "Last night I met the Alchemist's daughter, Hermione Flamel. She gave me her blood, which replenished me with magic that I had never tasted before. She came to me and offered herself, in exchange for her friends. She convinced me that she was an ally while at the same time knowing her father had thrown the angel Orb and destroyed my children!"

"There must be some mistake, Lord Trochar." Gellert said bowing his head with slight disappointment "the Flamel's have no living child, nor can they produce any children in their immortal forms."

"She had his golden eyes, and her blood was thick with power! She did not look mortal, nor did she speak as they do! How else would I be able to stand before you as healed and whole as I am now!?" Trochar leapt onto the table with inhuman speed.

The vampire fangs flashed and seemed to grow another inch. The whites of his eyes swirled blood red as he narrowed in on Gellert.

"Golden…eyes?" Grindelwald whispered, lifting his head back up to meet the vampires red eyes. The blood in his veins seemed to run cold from shock. "Her eyes were gold?"

"As gold as the hand of Midas." Trochar spat, leaping off the table with unimaginable speed. In a blink of an eye he stood inches from Gellert's face, baring his fangs dangerously "she was his daughter…of that I have no doubt."

"I believe you." Gellert spoke breathlessly, with a predatory smile. He had never felt so grateful to another living creature as he had at that moment. "And where did you say you met this child?"

"the Forbidden Forest, outside of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Trochar said with a frightening sort of calm that promised retribution and death. "She's a student as well."

"Then I think it's time I pay Hogwarts a little trip."

"No need." Trochar laughed, pulling out a black stone on a golden chain that sat against his chest. "Not only can Hermione Flame contact me through this pendant, and I her…but I've also activated it as a reverse portkey, so that I can summon her to me anytime I want."

The table broke out into thunderous laughter as Trochar fingered the pendant.

"And at the moment I don't know whether I want to kill her to spite the Alchemist…or make her a child of darkness for my own selfish greed." Trochar continued to laugh "Either way, you get leverage, and I get revenge."

.

A/N- If you enjoyed reading this, or spent hours invested in this fic, please leave a review :D They motivate me and I read every one of then a hundred times!

I appreciate everyone of you who make me feel excited to write and plot!

A friend of mine writes Harlequin Novels and has two of her books made into films by the Hallmark channel. I eventually want to have lunch with her and discuss another project I've been working on. Seeing such encouraging comments really motivates me to continue trying my best and write as much as I can.

I don't know if I have potential to have my own book published, but I will continue to work hard and write!

Thank you for your continued support of this fic my fellow HP peps!

-RobinTheSlytherin-


	10. Remembering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tom panics,   
> Harry screams,   
> and Nebula remembers

Through The Cyclone of The Phoenix

Chapter 10

"But Grandmother! What big eyes you have," said Little Red Riding Hood.

"The better to see you with, my dear," replied the wolf.

"But Grandmother! What big teeth you have," said Little Red Riding Hood her voice quivering slightly.

"The better to eat you with, my dear"

.

"Sscyrene!" Tom screamed in terrible pain.

He dragged himself slowly across the damp stone floor of the Chamber of Secrets, crying out with unimaginable agony.

The pain was deeper than his skin, muscles, or bones. It was deeper than the core of his magic- it was in his very soul!

Tom had never know such pain in all of his life. He didn't know such a limit on a wizard existed, and he wondered why he was not yet dead. For the first time in his life he wanted to die, if only to escape the pain.

"SSCYRENE!" Tom let out a blood curdling scream, as he crawled on all fours like an animal.

He gasped, and his eyes widened as if merely speaking were a colossal effort. And then suddenly he could not move. On that filthy stone floor, he could not move an inch.

Then again, such a position seemed fitting. Tom had seen the face of his future, he saw a world in flames, drenched in blood, and death.

In his robe pocket, Tom could feel the warmth of the phoenix feather building up. The warmth went from tolerable to unbearable in a matter of seconds.

His robes were intact, and yet Tom felt as if they were on fire. He tried shrugging out of his robe, but hadn't the strength.

But that pain was nothing compared to what his soul was enduring.

Will I…die? Tom thought as his pink mouth went slack , Will I die?

"Masssster!" a voice echoed from the depths of the chamber.

Tom no longer had the capability to move another inch. His arms could no longer keep him up and gave out beneath him.

His cheek lay against the cold stone as he prayed for his body to pass out.

How much more pain could he take?!

He curled his legs up to the side of him, but even that minimal effort took all Tom's strength. Then he was swallowed by the barren haze of relentless pain, and knew nothing more than that.

"Masssster! What hassss happened?!" came the screeching hiss of the Basilisk above Tom. "MASSSTER! You're dying!"

Tom choked on his own groan of misery as he felt Sscyrene coil around his body.

Tom cried out as the Basilisk constricted him. Each movement caused him such pain. As Sscyrene tightened her powerful hold, Tom felt a warmth begin to cocoon him.

"Don't ssstruggle massster! The pain isss necesssary- embrace it or it will consssume you!"

No, it was too much! Tom couldn't bare it anymore- he'd rather—

Rather what?

Die?

The image of Toms bloody future ransacked through his mind, evading every thought.

He could hear that creatures decrepit laugh over Hermione's screams- over the screams of hundreds that met their death because of him.

I deserve to die.

I don't deserve the miracle of my own magic.

But….

I want to live, even for just another moment longer. Surely, my life won't end so soon. I still haven't made it yet. I haven't taken my true place among wizards…

Will I die a nothing?

No

Not yet

I DON'T WANT TO DIE!

These thoughts were the only thing Tom could accept, and as he did a last surge of pain ripped through Tom.

It was then that he allowed a wave of darkness to slowly take him.

He took comfort in the Basilisks hold, and pressed his head against the giant snake.

He wondered if this was how it felt to be held by a mother. Sscyrene was the closest thing to a parent Tom had ever known. He wished he wasn't in so much pain, and that he had the strength to wound his arms around the serpent.

Darkness was closing in around Tom, so that he could only see shadows and shapes.

"MASSSTER!" Sscyrene hissed as she tightened her hold, causing her pausaul-magic to pour into Tom "DO NOT LEAVE ME! I CANNOT ENDURE ANOTHER CENTURY IN SILENCE, PLEASE MASSSTER! I DO NOT WANT YOU TO DIE!"

You're the only one Sscyrene, Tom thought as he passed out, I don't want to die, but I deserve to.

Tom smiled to himself as the pain within his soul threatened to tear him apart.

Sscyrenes hisses grew fainter. The shadows closed in on him. And then as he gave in to the darkness something happened.

Within Toms pocket, the phoenix feather burst into flames. It did not consume any material.

Instead, the fire became gentle, and surrounded Tom within the Basilisk's coils.

They were the flames of rebirth and new life that surrounded Tom.

And it was all consuming.

.

When Abraxas entered the Slytherin dorm, it was well past two in the morning.

He slowly sat on the edge of his bed and carefully slipped off his sleek leather shoes.

Abraxas miraculously prepared for bed stripping out of his school robes and into a comfortable white nightshirt with embroidery on the hem and his cuffs.

He was slow to slip on the garment, which caressed his pale skin with a secret sort of pleasure.

Abraxas smoothed the fine fabric over his chest and down his belly until his hands reached his thighs.

Nebula was still unconscious and healing.

His sister…

Abraxas sat by her bedside for hours holding her hand and staring into her round face.

Her hand was so small in his, and he remembered thinking how he had never given his sister such comfort before…or perhaps it was for his own selfish need that he did it.

Never the less, Abraxas couldn't stop thinking about Nebula and Ursa.

His hands clenched the fabric of his nightshirt over his thighs, twisting it tightly.

He glanced over at Orion, who slept with his entire body tucked into the duvet, except for his face.

Rostislav was another matter entirely. The mad Lestrange boy sprawled out naked over his bed. His sheets tangled around his strong limbs, and for a single moment Abraxas studied the boy intently.

He felt his cheeks heat up as he allowed himself to think wicked and unnatural thoughts about another man.

The moment passed, filling him with deep shame.

Abraxas flicked his wand towards his bed and closed the curtains.

The Flamel brothers were also in a deep sleep. The muscular one with the red hair- Ron had his arms wrapped around his brother.

Again the wicked thoughts filled his mind.

Harry Flamel seemed serene pressed against his brothers chest. The sight of the two in each others embrace was not so much a strange sight these days, but it still threw Abraxas off a bit.

It made him think about things he had no business thinking.

He studied how Harrys fingers spun themselves in Ron's red hair and wondered if this was how normal siblings acted.

Abraxas thought of his own connection to his sister and looked away in shame.

He was a disgrace to the Malfoy name for neglecting his sister, and now look at what happened.

No, he would not allow the Malfoy name to be treated as such. He would get to the bottom of this if it was the last thing he did.

Curiously, Abraxas glanced towards Toms bed and found it empty.

A part of himself wanted to rummage through his belongings and investigate what hidden secrets Tom kept.

Yes, Tom Riddle had proven himself worthy to Orion, Ursa, Rostislav, and himself. A few years ago he proved himself to be worthy of Slytherin house, despite growing up in the muggle world.

He told them he was the descendant of the great Salazar Slytherin himself, which no one believed. They had all laughed until Tom took them into the Chamber of Secrets and commanded the Basilisk to show itself.

Abraxas had never felt such fear and awe in his entire life, and neither had the other Slytherin boys.

From that day on they treated Tom with respect and reverence, and followed whatever command he gave them.

Abraxas remembered the name Tom had given them—

Death Eaters

"So that even death will flee from you, less you devour it and become greater than mortal limitations." Tom had said one night to then as he walked across the stone ledge of the Astronomy Tower.

The others had embraced the name, but Abraxas always felt uneasy about such a title.

The conservative pureblood that Abraxas was made him inwardly turned his nose up in distain.

However, Abraxas accepted it as he watched Tom lift his arms above his head. A gust of wind caused Tom's robes and hair to billow around him.

Abraxas was seduced by Toms power, and thrilled him in such a way that made Abraxas question everything.

It was easy to accept Tom. He had such advanced power, and his charisma drew in everyone like a moth to the flame. His words were seductive, and although Abraxas held a certain formal respectability for his position and propriety, he too was seduced.

Now, as Abraxas stared at Toms empty bed, he felt a seed of doubt begin to grow.

As Abraxas sat in silent contemplation, something happened

From across the room Harry Flamel was thrown out of his brothers arms by an invisible force. His body was thrown across the room, screaming and thrashing in agony.

Ron was the first to react and leapt out of bed with his wand drawn.

"HARRY!" he roared charging towards Harry's trembling form which continued to scream.

Orion and Ros bolted up with their wands drawn, frantically looked around them to find the source of the nightmarish sounds.

Abraxas quickly turned to Orion, trying to keep the panic out of his voice "He needs aid, get the Matron here immediately!"

Ros threw on his robe to cover his naked body, and jumped from his bed to Ursa's.

Ros rummaged threw Ursas potions case as Orion raced out the door, while at the same time sending a patronus to their head of house.

"Harry! Tell me whats wrong, whats—"

Ron went silent as he pushed back his brothers hair. The look that crossed his face was one of mixed relief and panic.

Abraxas stood over Ron as Rostislav nearly fell over the red head with a handful of vials.

"Heres a pain reliever- shove in fown his throat!" Ros demanded, uncorking the vial and handing it to Ron who smelled the vial suspiciously "I'm not trying to poison him, idiot! Give me a little more cunning credit than that….also I wouldn't do that in front of witnesses."

Ron took the vial and opened Harrys clenched mouth and tried to pour the potion, but Harry couldn't stop thrashing.

Finally after another minuet of this, Ron took the vial and poured it into his open mouth.

As he held Harry down beneath him, he used his hands to hold his head in place as he captured his mouth. Ron allowed the potion to pour from his lips into Harry's mouth, and did so with another one for good measure.

Ros had an amused gleam in his eye as he watched Ron Flamel captured his brothers lips, who continued to moan in pain.

After another moment Harry stopped screaming and lay on his side in fetal position, shaking.

Abraxas noticed how Ron kept brushing back Harry's fringe, and stroking the pad of his thumb over Harry's forehead….

Which lacked the lightening bolt scar which once marred it.

.

Gellert Grindlewald apparated within the forbidden forest. It was late as he began his walk, aware of the Obscural cloud which followed behind him.

"Hogwarts is a few kilometers from here, and apparation is impossible because of the wards." Gellert said, staring the conversation. "I never attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I attended Drumstrang, although I unfortunately never finished."

Credence materialized beside Gellert through the black cloud, so he could walk beside the sixty-year-old wizard.

"I wouldn't know anythinh about magical education." Credence said in a hard stoic voice next to Gellert. "what I do want to know, is why you wished for me to come with you? Lord Trochar already told you he would summon the Flamel girl, so why are we here?"

"The Flamels need to be taught a lesson." Gellert smiled, sharing a satisfied smile "and you are here to help me extract it."

"This is part of your plan for world order?" Credence scoffed, shaking his head "seems insignificant that ruling over muggles requires the alliance or power of one family. Immortal or not."

"We need the Hallows." Gellert smiled as if he were talking to a small child about adult matters "its as simple as that."

They walked in silence until they reached the edge of the forest outside of Hogwarts. They stood staring at the magnificent castle in silence.

Credence was the first to break the silence appearing overwhelmed by emotion.

"Do all magical children go to school in such places?" Credence whispered, taking a timid step forward. It was as if the timid, shy Credence from years ago resurfaced.

He stared at the castle in wonder and sadness for all the things he was deprived of and would never have.

His sadness turned to anger, and suddenly he allowed his Obscural form to swallow him within the threatening black cloud.

Gellert smiled to himself as he turned from Credence and stared at a dimly lit window in one of the towers.

He could feel a familiar power radiating within it.

Its so like you to shelter them from me, Albus, but not for long. You can never escape from me, nor I you.

Maybe this time you'll listen to reason.

Gellert's attention turned towards the whining sound of horses.

Found you.

Gellert flashed a wicked smile towards the Obscural cloud which housed Credence, as he pointed towards the golden stable.

"Unleash the full extent of your power, Credence…and don't be afraid to get a little creative while your at it."

An animalistic roar blasted through the Obscural as it lashed out like a jigsaw of blades and hatred towards the golden stables.

Gellert leaned against an ancient tree as he turned his attention back towards the tower where he knew Albus slept, and smiled.

The screeching of Pegasus filled his ears as Gellert continued to watch the window, silently hoping to see a flicker of light or a shadow cross the window.

You can't fight against me forever, Albus…I will have you by my side… no matter what the cost.

I swear it.

For the greater good.

.

Nebula Malfoy bolted upright in her hospital bed.

It was the faint echoing shrieks that tore her back to the present. Shrieks which sounded more animalistic than human, and it was coming from beyond the walls of Hogwarts.

She was in a cold sweat, panting as if she had just run a mile, and blind panic flooded her every cell.

Her wide grey eyes darted around the hospital wing, blinking rapidly.

The terrible shrieks came again…no, not shrieks.

Whining.

Nebula shook as she listened to those terrible sounds. She felt so cold, and heavy as if her whole body was made of lead.

Still in a panic, Nebula took in her bearings.

The hospital wing?

How did…

As the thought crossed her mind, Nebula remembered running into Tom in the common room.

He had taken a seat next to her and talked so tenderly to her with brotherly affection. A pang of sadness filled her heart as Nebula thought of her brother, Abraxas.

Tom had wrapped his arm around her shoulder and smiled so warmly at her. She remembered feeling safe and…loved.

She remembered how he patted her blond hair, and kissed her forehead.

She remembered his smile.

She remembered his bright blue eyes…

His eyes.

Toms eyes…

Nebula slowly looked down at her small bandaged hands. She peeled back the wrappings to find half healed wounds on her knuckles and palms.

Toms eyes…

Nebula shook her head as she ripped the bandages off of her other hand. The bruises on her wrists were faint, but they were still visible.

Tom's….red….eyes

Tom's beautiful blue eyes turning blood red.

Toms charmimg smile melting from his face.

"T-Tom?" Nebula had said in a quivering voice " y-you eyes!"

She remembered Tom's vice- like grip on her wrists, twisting and bruising them.

And then Nebula remembered the Unforgivable that hit her.

She remembered…

Everything.

A/N— we're about to descend into darkness.

Get ready.


	11. Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a scream pierce's through Hogwarts

Through The Cyclone of The Phoenix

By RobinTheSlytherin

.

Chapter 11

Awake

For it is the fate of a woman

Long to be patient and silent, to wait like a ghost that is speechless

Till some questioning voice dissolves the spell of its silence.

-Henry Wadsworth Lonhfellow-

.

Nebula Malfoy had always pondered why she was sorted into Slytherin house.

By nature, she was a quiet, obedient girl who liked to keep her own company. She loved animals, specially albino peacocks which reflected such an innocent and gentle nature.

She looked through her rose colored glasses at a world with such an optimistic way. Her view on the world was a mixture of sadness, but of also great happiness and wonder. Magic had left that sort of innocent wonder in her heart, which fluttered in excitement when she thought of the future.

Yes, every Malfoy had been placed in Slytherin, of course…but she had never understood the reasoning behind her particular placement.

Nebula was a quiet, withdrawn girl who only wanted to keep her head down and her company to herself.

She often found that when she spoke to her father or brother, they would always find a way to drive her deeper into herself.

She felt like a prisoner, waiting to be married off to another strict pureblood family.

She watched the shadows cross the walls as night drew into morning. There was a moment, during the night, where Madam Leval rushed out with Orion black.

"Its Flamel, he's having some sort of a fit!" Orion had said in a panic.

And off they went, leaving Nebula to stare at their retreating backs in the dark.

"Ah, good morning Miss Malfoy! Awake I see!" Madam Leval announced as she crossed the room with a tray of potions in her hands "Lets get these potions in you and we can begin the exam."

Nebula took the potions in silence as Madam Leval traced over her body with the tip of her wand.

She didn't move, and instead concentrated on a spot on the wall opposite of her.

There was a darkness that bloomed behind Nebula's once innocent eyes. It was a darkness that hardened and consumed her baby-like features.

It was a sharp and evident change.

Her heart pounded as Madam Leval sat down beside her and questioned her physical history.

"You've had a number of broken bones, and quite recently too." The matron commented "your body is also showing signs of the Cruciatus Curse, not to mention the physical signs of trouble that we healed last night"

"We?" Nebula tore her eyes away from the wall to look at the matron.

"Miss Flamel brought you here last night. She heard a scream and found you in the forest!" Madam Leval explained in a concerned tone "your brother came as soon as he heard and helped apply the bruise salve to your injuries. He was quite worried for you—"

"My brother has never concerned himself with me, Madam." Nebula whispered in a hard tone that she herself didn't recognize "He saves his worries for his position, and out family status. He doesn't really care… its all about protocol and propriety with him." Nebula finished resentfully.

Her small pale hands squeezed into fists so hard that she felt her nails digging painfully into her skin.

Nebula felt so much hate in her heart- so much so that she thought she would die from it.

"Now really, miss Malfoy!" Madam Leval scolded "Your brother was worried half to death about you and I must insist you tell me how you came about these injuries!"

"I don't know." Nebula lied easily, something she had never done before "I just went out for a walk by the edge of the forest. I must have passed out from the heat."

"That doesn't explain your injuries, girl!" Madam Leval snapped.

Tom Riddle.

Tom Riddle is the one who hurt me.

He tortured me over and over, smiling as he cursed me.

I thought he was friend. I have so little of those. I thought he was the only one who understood me.

I loved him better than I did my own brother, and he laughed as he broke every inch of me.

But the worst thing of all came when he sang to me… My joints would be pulled out of there sockets, my bones crushed, my insides twisted with curses, and still he sang…

Tom Riddle ruined, perhaps forever, my mind, body, and soul…

And the only justice would be his life as mine is now.

"I don't know how I came about my previous injuries. I don't remember getting hurt. Maybe it happened when I was a baby." Nebula shrugged, inwardly seething at the memories of Tom torturing her "Perhaps my mother caused them. She's in Azkaban for killing all those muggles, and she was a fanatic of Grindlewald's. Maybe she hurt me and made me forget."

Madam Leval looked at Nebula in disbelief, shaking her head.

"Your injuries were as recent as last week. I'm concerned for you, child. So how can you not remember unless someone attacked you and erased your memories?"

Nebula stood, snatching up her school clothes and shoes.

"Whatever the case, I feel much better and would like to get back to my dorm as soon as possible." Nebula said in a cold voice that didn't suit her at all "may I have your permission to leave?"

"Only if you promise to come back every day for your potions- AND a thorough examination." Madam Leval snapped in frustration, slapping her hand against her thigh. "Also, I suggest you see a mind healer. I would be more than happy to bring in one from St. Mungo's."

"I refuse to have my mind trampled through." Nebula answered, remembered when Tom played with her mind, and used her for his twisted Occlumency practice "but I will come back, Madam Leval. Right now, I just want to get back to my dorm."

Madam Leval looked down at Nebula Malfoy and stiffened. Her eyes were different. There was something haunted behind her grey eyes. A rising sense of fear made her blood run slow and thick.

"Now if I may, Madam, I'm sure my brother is eager to see me." Nebula curtsied before turning on her heel and leaving Madam Leval frozen, with one hand clutched at her breast.

The corridors were just starting to come alive as students dragged their feet towards the Great Hall for breakfast.

Nebula walked with slow purpose towards the dungeons, the air around her tingling with angry magic. Her sleek black Mary Jane's, with a slight heel, clicked through the halls, and for once Nebula walked with her head held high.

She couldn't stop the tidal wave of memories that assaulted her last night. She spent hours processing every memory, memorizing Tom Riddle's every word and expression. What was left for Nebula to feel with nothing, except hate and retribution.

It was as if the girl she had been yesterday had disappeared.

The moment Nebula regained her memories, she was overwhelmed with fear, and the need to escape. She wanted to die. She wanted to place a weight charm on her shoes and sink to the bottom of the lake.

She remembered placing the tip of her wand against her temple and wanting to recite those miserable words.

She had seen her father kill house elf's when they grew too old to be of use. She had enough hate and fear in her heart to evoke the power. If she didn't escape now, Tom would find her again. He would hurt her in the most unspeakable ways...

Nebula hadn't brushed her long blonde hair before she left the Hospital Wing. She wore the same lace dress as yesterday, which was terribly dirty and rumpled from the forest floor. Her dress was torn in certain places exposing a large portion of her bare legs, which felt strange without her stockings.

A few seventh-year boys paused as she passed them, raking their eyes over her too young body. She looked like a ravished nymphet, glaring ahead with a vengeance.

"Who is that?" One of them whispered loud enough for Nebula to hear.

"I haven't seen her befo— wait…that Abraxas' sister!"

"the second year? No, it can't be."

As Nebula reached the dungeons as the sound of an ungodly scream rang out.

She paused, listening to the screams that shook Hogwarts, without flinching.

For a moment Nebula thought they must have a been a memory of her own screams, until students and teachers began rushing towards the sound.

Nebula didn't move.

The screams had a godless power that tore from the depths of hell itself.

Yes, the screams of Hell, Nebula thought as she uttered the password to the Slytherin Common Room.

In a rush, almost too fast for Nebula to see, Hermione Flamel, along with Ron, and Harry Flamel raced past her out of the portrait.

She noticed how sick Harry Flamel looked, but stopped as she entered the common room, and saw her brother standing by the piano, and looking at her with an unsettled look in her eyes as he stared at her.

After a moment of students rushing past her, Abraxas and Nebula were completely alone.

Abraxas studied Nebula's disorganized state of appearance with a serious expression of concern. He had never seen his sister so uncombed. She looked chaotic as if she had just stepped out of a great storm.

Her eyes were hard and no longer held the same softness and tenderness as before.

Abraxas didn't realize how tenderhearted her eyes had once been. The look of awe and passionate light was gone from her expression. Seeing this, Abraxas was a loss for words.

His composure was failing, and there was nothing he could do to stop his feet from moving towards her.

Nebula watched her brother nearly stagger towards her, his grey eyes wide and full of unmasked affliction. She met his eyes with a hard glare. Her mouth was set in a tight line, and her chin remained raised in defiance.

"Sister… what's happened to you?" Abraxas asked in a quiet voice.

He stood in front of her, looking down at a girl he did not recognize. She seemed years older and looked as though she had peaked into the pit of hell itself. There was a grave, yet loathsome expression that polluted her, and Abraxas didn't know what to do.

"Nebula—"

"I need your help brother." Nebula cut him off darkly, which did not suit her soft voice.

In all the years Abraxas had known his sister, she had never once asked for his help. He looked down at her and had the odd compulsion to reach out and touch his sister.

He raised his hand to place on her shoulder, only to have her flinch away violently with a hiss. His eyes widened at such a reaction.

"You were attacked, sister." It wasn't a question.

"I've been assaulted in more ways than there are words to speak." Nebula darkly, in a quivering voice "and I need your help… if you have any loyalty to me and our family, you will aid me."

"Who?" Abraxas demanded in a deadly quiet whisper that cut through the air "Tell me."

"Swear your loyalty to me."

"What?"

"I said," Nebula said in a quiet contemptuous voice "swear your loyalty."

"Of course, I swear it!" Abraxas nearly shouted, taking a desperate step towards her "Who dare harm you?! I will not tolerate any Malfoy to come to harm!"

Suddenly Nebula looked down. Her eyes were devoid of emotion, yet she smiled at his words.

"If funny," Nebula said in a deadpanned tone "I didn't know you cared so much. You've never been anything but cold."

Abraxas closed his eyes for a moment before opening them.

"Of course, I care." Abraxas snapped raising his chin defiantly "I've always cared…but I've cared in my way. I am not sentimental by nature, nor am I an affectionate person. I know my place in this world, but that doesn't mean I don't care for you as my sister."

Abraxas paused, looking down at his sister, who smiled stoically.

"Nebula, I compel you to tell me who OUR enemy is." Abraxas breathed, towering over her "No matter what has transpired between us, or how distant we may seem to one another…my one value in this life, in our family is my duty and devotion to it."

Then Nebula looked up, her expression had cleared itself and what remained was a terrible look of hate. As she opened her mouth to speak, her fists had once again clenched causing her nails to cut her palms and blood to trickle out of her fist.

"Riddle" Nebula whispered with a quivering smile.

And then she did something she had never done before.

She wrapped her arms around her brother and cried tears of anger and hate. What was even more surprising was the protective way Abraxas folded her into his arms.

His piercing grey eyes held a promise of vengeance, as he tucked Nebula under his chin. It was all Abraxas could do from tearing from the common room in search of Riddle. No, that wouldn't do. Their vengeance would be all consuming.

And when Abraxas and Nebula Malfoy were finished with Riddle, no one in history would ever remember such a boy had ever existed.

.

Hermione had been startled awake by Ron, and Harry who looked pale and shaken. She had been dreaming of someone screaming in the distance.

It was the sort of screaming that dragged terror and utter grief in its wake. She had heard such screaming before, during the war. She had heard Molly Weasley scream in such a way when her children had died in front of her eyes. She had heard such a scream when students watched professors eaten alive by Acromantulas, and when first years were thrown from the astronomy tower, and torn limb from limb by giants.

It wasn't a sort of scream that you could forget, and yet Hermione also wondered if it was her own.

No.

Even while she had been tortured and raped, she never screamed in such a way.

She felt shaken to her magical core.

"Hermione wake up!" Ron shouted in a panic.

Harry stood at Ron's side looking pale and sick, and something else was off about him but Hermione couldn't figure out what.

Her head also felt fuzzy. If she knew what static noise felt like, the feeling in her head would be close to it.

"Somethings happened!" Harry gasped as the screaming continued "and Riddle didn't come to bed last night either."

"What?"

Hermione leapt out of bed, forgetting she was wearing noting but a thin white nightgown. She didn't bother with her shoes and raced out the door of the girl's dorms and through the common room.

There was such chaotic commotion that Hermione barely notices Nebula Malfoy and ran last her as fast as she could.

There was something in her gut that twisted, telling her something was horribly wrong.

As They ran, Hermione looked over at Harry with concern. She wanted to ask him what happened, but the terrible screams continued, tearing his back to the present.

When they came to the stables, Hermione, Ron, and Harry stopped in their tracks.

A crowd of students had gathered around the stables blocking their way. Professor Dumbledore, headmaster Dippet and the other Professors were ushering the students away, many of whom were crying and looked as pale as death. Their expressions were terrible as they made their way back towards the castle.

Hermione looked down and saw Lynall Lupin covering little Fenrir's eyes, as he cried and sobbed against his best friend.

"W-why did this happen?" Fenrir sobbed, his face red and stained with tears "Who d-did it, Lynall?"

Hermione stared down at little Fenrir Greyback with a sense of dread washing over her. His expression pierced like ice cold water being thrown into her belly. When Fenrir pulled away from Lynall, who whispered words of comfort to his friend, he caught sight of Hemione.

Ron and Harry stiffened beside her, as they laid their eyes on Fenrir Greyback, who looked nothing like his future self.

"H-Hermione!" Fenrir cried out in a fragile little voice "Mione don't go over there!"

His small body collided with hers, wrapping his tender arms around her middle. He sobbed against her and pleaded for her not to go, saying over and over again how sorry he was for her loss.

Lynall Lupin, stepped forward, prying his best friend away from Hermione, who stood frozen at Greyback's words.

"C'mon, Fen." Lynall spoke quietly in a voice that reminded Harry of his level-headed Remus Lupin. "Let's go get you some warm milk, and rest."

Fenrir eventually left with Lynall, crying silently as he was pulled back towards the castle.

Ron looked ahead, with wide unblinking eyes, as the students opened a way for them.

The sight the greeted them was abominable in every sense.

And in the center of the blood and feathers was Perenelle Flamel, screaming over a decapitated Pegasus head.

But there was more.

So much more that Hermione forgot how to breath.

The wings of each white Pegasus had been ripped off and arranged amongst the feathers to form a symbol.

Someone had constructed the Deathly Hallows from the wings and feathers, and around it lay pieces of the Pegasus which had been mercilessly butchered.

Nicholas stood inside the stables, looking down at the symbol in unresponsive shock. He and Perenelle looked out of place amongst the blood and gore. T

"My children! No! No-no-no! They were the last of their kind!" Perenelle screamed, delirious with grief as she clutched the decapitated head "THEY WERE THE LAST!"

Nicholas continued to stare at the symbol and made no more to comfort his wife.

However, Harry rushed forward, falling to his knees beside her.

Hermione didn't scream, instead she raced to a nearby tree and doubled over as she vomited painfully.

Ron was by her side in an instant, holding her long hair back and soothing his hand over the back of her neck.

It was only a few moments she knelt on the ground, as her hammering pulse slowed, but to Hermione it felt like forever. When she finally stood up, Perenelle's screams and ceased leaving only gasping sobs heaving out of her body.

Hermione's fingertips felt cold and numb. The air stank of blood, and when the wind hit Hermione in the face she kneeled over and vomited again.

"Riddle did this." Ron hissed, his voice heavy with loathing "He didn't come back last night, and something happened to Harry…"

"What?" Hermione looked up at Ron sharply.

Ron looked at Hermione wearily. He reached out a hand to caress her jaw, down to her neck and kept it there.

"After you took Malfoy out of the Great Hall to speak with him about his sister, Harry and I decided to go to bed." Ron began, earning a confused look from Hermione

"Malfoy?" Hermione's head swam, and again came the void of white noise buzzing in her head "Never mind, so what happened after?"

"We were sleeping, when suddenly Harry began to scream. He was thrown out of bed by an invisible force, and nearly cracked his skull open. And then I saw it…or rather I didn'tsee it."

"What didn't you see?"

Ron sighed, shaking his head "Harry's scar. Its gone. Madam Leval came and patched him up, but she couldn't find anything wrong with him, besides a bumped head."

Hermione gasped, covering her mouth. She looked over Ron's shoulder at Harry who pulled Perenelle to her feet, only to have her swoon from grief and faint.

Harry lifted Perenelle into his arms, with one arm hooked under her knees and the other under her back. Her head fell back, waterfalling a cascade of golden hair that nearly touched the ground.

"you said Tom didn't come to bed." Hermione whispered, watching Harry take their mother back towards the castle.

"And then Harry told me something else when he woke up…He said he couldn't feel him anymore." Ron continued "he couldn't feel him at all. He must have done something awful, I know he did!"

Hermione felt herself bathed in cold sweat, her heart began hammering against her chest in the most terrifying way,

"Ron…You said I took Malfoy out of the Great Hall to speak with him?"

"yes, you seemed really upset about something—"

"Ron," Hermione breathed slowly, wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her white nightgown "I don't remember doing that. I don't remember talking with Abraxas, and I don't remember coming into the Great hall."

She looked at Ron whose golden eyes widened in horrible realization.

"I don't remember."

.

Tom gasped, waking up suddenly. He was curled up against Sscyrene, the Basilisk, trying to control his breathing.

A moment passed of mingled liberation and the inexplicable realization of his recreation. Tom trembled as Sscyrene loosened her coils around him.

After a night of agony, he felt as if a disease was cleansed from his body that he never knew was there. He could feel his soul vibrating within his core, like the fluttering of a newborn heart. It was warm, and for a long time all he could do was weep like a child.

His crossed his arms over his chest, guarding the purity he felt.

Toms face flooded with tears.

Before this moment, nothing filled his eyes but hate and the need of immortality. Now they were filled with a new kind of beauty. He could almost hear his souls singing out praises, and acclamations of life.

The sickness had been purged and his soul healed.

He knew immediately that his Horcruxes were no more, and another thought came into his mind.

His mother.

The potion Merope had forced his father Thomas Riddle to consume, and the same his mother used while she was pregnant with him. She had placed the Imperius Curse over his father and forced him to drink a most toxic love potion. The toxins imbedded themselves in her womb and within every cell of Tom.

He understood why he had been incapable of love or goodness.

His own mother's manipulation against his father was an impure act. Along with the toxins Tom realized why he had been born with such darkness in him.

Toxins imbedded in his brain, and essence preventing him from producing whatever chemical allowed the body to feel love or happiness.

For the first time he felt as if he had been born again.

Tom looked down at his hands which had spilt so much blood and wished he could go back in time and change every evil act he had ever committed.

"Massster, your wand!" Sscyrene hissed, "I can feel its warmth in your pocket."

Tom looked down at his robes, shaking his head "My wand was snapped. It isn't my wand."

But as soon as he put his hand into his pocket, he felt something warm and harm against his fingers.

Slowly, Tom pulled the item from his pocket and gasped.

It was a wand, and instantly he knew it was his. The color was a deep red and bore strange runes around the handle.

The Phoenix feather from his previous wand had transformed into a magnificent wand. He felt power radiating from it. He felt both life and death in its core. The wand didn't look like any wood he had ever seen. It felt more like stone.

It reminded him of another stone he had seen somewhere else.

A stone which Nicholas Flamel wore around his neck as an amulet.

Looking back down at his wand, Tom gasped.

His wand resembled the Sorcerer's Stone!

Slowly Tom stood and raised his wand in front of him. He focused his new soul and magical core on the tip of his wand, and suddenly a stream of golden liquid sprung out, and spilled to the stone floor.

Tom stared at the thick liquid and smiled as he realized what this must have been.

A part of him wanted to lap up the golden elixir, but something stronger told him not to.

He looked up at Sscyrene who shut her eyes as she lowered her scaly head to smell the liquid.

"Don't drink it." Tom commanded, taking a step back.

"why massster?"

Tom swallowed, then paused to lick his dry lips.

"Because," Tom said quietly, backing away "that's the Elixir of Life."

Suddenly the silence of the Chamber was broken by the sound of a melodic trill.

Tom spun around in time to see a magnificent phoenix glide towards him.

In a blast of fire and magic Tom was thrown back against his basilisk, who coiled proactively around Tom, exposing her fangs.

After a moment Tom, shoved against Sscyrene for release. He pointed his crimson wand towards the figure that transfigured itself from the phoenix.

A tall young man, with golden hair which sat in soft waves at his neck, stood in the center of the chamber. He had soft beautiful features, but also a touch of masculinity. He looked like the reincarnation of Adonis.

His golden eyes held mischief and approval. His skin shinned like moonlight and suddenly tom thought the young man seemed all too familiar.

For a moment he looked around the chamber and smiled as if remembering an event with fondness. He eyed the basilisk in a sadder light but smiled none-the-less.

Tom observed the blonde youth wore a doublet of red and gold, black breeches, and fine boots with a slight heel. He looked out of place and out of time, but more than anything he looked like a god.

No, not a god...

"Hello Tom Riddle," the beautiful young man finally spoke in an elegant voice "My name is Faulques Flamel, and I need your help."

.

A/N- I was seriously planning Nebula Malfoy to kill herself from the very beginning, but as I continued to write I decided not to. It developed differently, and I'm satisfied at where this story is going and how many plots are being stringed together (which will eventually come together epically!)

This story will be a long complex one. It will be a slow burn when it comes to Tom/Hermione, but don't worry it will happen! But not without a fight!

As it is, Grindelwald is building an army, and he has always had two things as motivation- the hallows, and Albus.

Faulques/Fawkes also has a plan of his own, and always had since the start.

should any of you have an interest to listen to music which has inspired TTCOTP, please see below for titles and artists.

E.S. Posthumus- Pompeii (Battle Of Hogwarts theme)

SVRCINA - Meet Me On The Battlefield (The Golden Trio)

Sleepy Hollow-19-End Credits (Through The Fiery Cyclone)

Elfen Lied- Lilium ,cover by Grissini Project (Hermione's Theme)

Lily's Theme', by Alexandre Desplat (Fawkes-Faulques)

Hungry Like The Wolf, by Hidden Citizens -Tim Halperin (Tom's hunger)

Eivør - Í Tokuni- (Lord Trochar's Blood Sacrifice)

Aurora - Hans Zimmer (Nebula Wakes)

THE WHITE BUFFALO - "Oh Darlin' What Have I Done" (Tom Faces Remorse)

Eurielle - Hate Me (Tom and Hermione Theme)

Maleficent Suite- James Newton Howard (Chateau Dior)


	12. The Story of Faulques

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we discover the Flamels dark past

/N- I've had many reviews on how complex my story is, and YES I agree! It was always meant to be very- VERY complex but in a good way. Don't worry babes I know exactly what I'm doing

The year is 1944, which is significant in many ways. Its Toms last year at Hogwarts, and the year before cannon depicts Dumbledore defeating Grindelwald. Gellert Grindelwald has an enormous following, which is entirely cannon and one which is significant in this time.

I also made a FB page where I'll be posting updates and related posts!

FIND ME Robintheslytherin

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Through The Cyclone Of The Phoenix

Chapter 12

The Story Of Faulques

.

The doctrine of the immortality of the soul has more threat than comfort.

-Mason Cooley-

.

.

"Hello Tom Riddle," the beautiful young man finally spoke in an elegant voice "My name is Faulques Flamel, and I need your help."

Faulques Flamel

Tom stared at the blonde youth, deciding he couldn't have been older than fifteen. However, his appearance was just like that of Hermione, Ron, and Harry Flamel.

Faulques glanced down at the stone floor, eyeing the golden liquid with concern.

"Allow me." He whispered, then suddenly flung a stream of red hot fire out of his hand. Tom leapt back against Sscyrene, who coiled around tom just enough for Tom to see the golden liquid vanish.

For a brief moment the flames shot back at Faulques surrounded him in a dome of flames before dissipating.

"I've seen those types of flames before." Tom commented.

Tom remembered the day in the library with Hermione. Her shield of fire was blue.

He remembered this because of her ability to perform such strong wandless magic, that she brought him to his knees with a flick of her finger.

The Basilisk hissed threateningly, baring her foot-long fangs that glistened with venom.

"Be still!" Tom hissed, pushing against Sscyrene.

Hesitantly, the basilisk loosened her coils again, but kept her fangs exposed as a warning. Faulques remained unmoved beneath the basilisks penetrating stare.

His stare…

"How is this possible?" realization struck Tom hard as he realized the Faulques was staring straight into the basilisk's eyes.

"What pretty yellow eyes she has. I didn't quite realize that the last time I saw her...what a shame." Faulques said softly as if remembering a violent event "but you already know that, don't you Tom?"

"I am the heir. I command her." Tom muttered in disbelief "of course I know. I am immune to her stare, you however…."

At this, the Sscyrene relaxed drawing back her fangs slightly.

"You look like her." Tom continued to speak, more to himself than to the blonde youth.

"Well, Hermione is my sister- more or less." Faulques smiled fondly, looking down "As are Ronald, and Harry. They're so very precious to me, and they're a part of why I am here- a large part."

"You're a phoenix- the same one from that day at the Quidditch match when the cyclone of fire brought them." Tom eyed the regally dressed boy.

"Yes, but I don't have much time to speak." Faulques explained quickly, flashing his golden eyes "The blood curse is fighting against my magic, I can feel myself reverting back into my phoenix form. I'm a Maledictus, you see, but I'll get to that in a moment. What's important now is the knowledge you have of the Flamel's- namely my siblings."

Tom's blue eyes flashed, darkly.

"I don't regret what I did—"

"Let's not sugar coat it." Faulques cut Tom off in a more sinister tone, which didn't suit him "You raped my sisters mind. I can read that much from your mind, but you know she'll eventually break the memory charm you cast on her…she's rather clever, my sister."

Tom didn't flinch. Although his soul felt whole, and his body cleansed, his character was still just as stoic and calculating.

"She isn't from this time- neither of them are." Tom said aloud as if validating a truth, he already knew. "They're from the future."

"Correct." Faulques nodded simply "As am I, but where we're from isn't important. Why we are here, however, is the real question."

"You said you needed my help." Tom demanded "Why? Why me? You know what I become. You know my god forsaken future! I become a monster!"

"Not anymore." Faulques smiled, splaying his alabaster hands, as if quite pleased with himself "the future has changed dramatically. The monster is dead…but we are faced with more than one monster."

"Speak plainly!" Tom spat angrily "I've had enough of mysteries and half-truths! What do you fucking want with me!?"

"Much." Faulques glared, stepping towards the Heir of Slytherin. "Oh, so much. You have met my father, yes?"

"Briefly." Tom ground out.

"And how do you find the proclaimed Alchemist?" Faulques asked each word dripping with venom. "Benevolent? Kind? Wise?"

Tom didn't speak, but that was exactly what he thought of the Alchemist. Faulques smiled, obviously reading Tom's thoughts.

"Yes, he does seem the type, doesn't he?" The regal blonde continued with a short mocking laugh, although he admired Riddle for his unwavering stance.

Tom Riddle was fearless. Faulques could feel his power, and the potential he had to become a great wizard. Indeed, Tom was formidable in every sense, but he still needed to learn to embrace his humanity.

"My father isn't what he seems." Faulques began as if that one fact was the most important "No one knows what my father truly is, or the evil that lives within him. I need your help as much as I do my siblings, and now that you've regained your soul its imperative that I tell you my tale. If we are to save the world, you must know everything."

He sees how angry Tom looks, but Faulques doesn't stop speaking

"I know you've been show much, but my story is one that must be told…or else the world will be at the mercy of darkness." Faulques meets Tom's blue eyes, imploring him "Please."

Tom whispered under his breath to Sscyrene, who slowly slithered away from them, back towards her chamber. He stood still for a moment, before conjuring two leather armchairs, for them to sit.

"We might as well get comfortable." Tom sighed, lowering himself elegantly into the chair.

"Then let us begin, before my magic wears out and I am forced back into my phoenix form." Faulques smirked, sitting across from the boy who would never again become the massacre of thousands.

….

.

The Story Of Faulques

The first memory I can recall is that of drowning.

I remember sitting on my father's small boat as we sailed down the Oise River, of Pontoise France. I remember my mother's long blond curls waterfalling over the edge of the boat as she looked over.

She had such long hair that hung in thick tendrils. The light would reflect in her hair, and I remember wanting to catch it.

The water made a gentle sound, even with other fishermen navigating the waters. I was rocked and lulled by these sounds and sights. Everything mesmerized me at that age. I must have been four, but even after so many years I can remember everything.

I remember the smell of the water as the sun hit it, and the sound of bells ringing in the distance from Cathédrale Saint-Maclou de Pontoise. I remember seeing my own reflection in the water as I reached out to touch my mother's hair.

And I remember losing my balance, and falling into the dark, frigid water below.

As I hit the water my small chubby hand was still outstretched, even as it sank into the water.

I didn't scream or cry out. I was never the type of child to express my discomforts, even in situations that caused me a great deal of pain.

As I sank I remember flailing my little arms and legs out, but the more I struggled, the farther down I seemed to sink. Still, I fought to live. My desire was too strong and as a result I was able to break through the surface of the water.

I gasped for air and called out for help but was choked by the water and began to bomb. I sucked in a mouthful of water as I tried calling out for my mother and father.

I expected my strength to begin to fade, but it did not.

I expected to feel pain when I sucked in the water, but I did not.

I felt as strong and alert as ever while I remained in the water. In my head I remembered believing that I would surely die.

Then out of nowhere a strong hand grabbed me by my long blonde hair and ripped me up towards the surface. I could feel my hair being pulled out, but I didn't care. I only cared for air and staying alive.

I must stay alive.

I must live!

I remember being hauled onto the boat and hearing the sound of my father's deep voice.

"Faulques!" he called, slapping my face hard "Faulques, can you hear me? Faulques, my son - breath!"

Breath?

Am I not breathing?

But I'm okay, I wanted to say, I feel just fine! Just a bit wet!

As the thought crossed my mind I remember the pain of my father's fist pounding against my sternum, and my vomiting the water I had swallowed. I was flipped over my father's knee and held upside down as he slapped my backside as if I were a newborn babe.

I managed to cough everything up, and then laid gently back onto the wooden plank of the boat.

My bottom, back, and scalp throbbed from my father's rough ministrations, but I was alive. Everything else seemed very unimportant in comparison.

And then I heard my father laughing with glee. It was strange to hear it, because it was strange that his demeanor should suddenly change.

"We did it!" Nicholas shouted happily "You see Perenelle? He cannot die! It worked, the Elixir worked!"

"you made him slip?" I could hear my mother cry furiously "you tried to kill our son?!"

"Of course not, my darling, I knew my experiment would work! I never had a doubt, or else I wouldn't have done so." Nicholas continued, still smiling triumphantly "There are a few more tests to conduct, but I believe I've done it! The Elixir Of Life is nearly complete!"

"Nicholas, Faulques is our son! He is our CHILD!"

"And that's why I am doing this." Nicholas continued with unrelenting excitement "the plague has taken too many of our friends and family. Even with our magical blood, we're immune to so many muggle ailments. This Elixir is only the beginning. Death is the ultimate disease, and I will eliminate it!"

I remember many instances like this.

I remember my father taking me to the rooftop of Cathédrale Saint-Maclou de Pontoise, my beloved church. I remember feeling a force fling me off. And I remember falling and the painful impact that caused my internal organs to burst. Nearly all my bones shattered, even my eyeballs exploded upon impact.

But then I remember waking up, fully healed.

Another time I was drinking my soup during dinner time. I remember my father eyeing me with morbid curiosity, and then I remember feeling acid burn through me. I remember foaming, and vomiting blood.

My mother screamed and screamed. She held my body and screamed at my father.

And then I remember waking up, again. My mother remembered nothing.

And it wasn't until I was twelve that I understood that my father was obliviating her.

There were no schools of witchcraft and wizardry during 14th century France. Between Sunday Mass, which persecuted and condemned witchcraft, and my home life where I was taught it on a daily basis…I grew conflicted and convicted in a faith that was my whole world.

"How am I able to turn into a phoenix, father?" I asked him one day, after suddenly transforming.

I must have been eight years old.

The transformations were uncontrollable, and each time I feared I would never transform back.

"I placed a spell upon your blood, my son." My father explained, as if it were nothing, and being a simple country boy, I accepted it without question.

With each transformation, my father would pluck a handful of feathers before turning me back.

Still I questioned nothing, and obeyed my father, who also showered me with affection.

In his own cruel way, I believe he did love me.

Little did I know my own father had placed a curse on my blood, which turned me into a Maledictus. I was young and ignorant.

I could not read or write, so whatever my father had written in his journals and books baffled me.

It wasn't until I began spending more time with in the church, did I aspire to become like the monks hunched over their tables, copying the holy word.

I wanted to learn the curve of each letter, and the meaning behind them.

I admired their faith.

Or perhaps it was how aware they were of their mortality, and how they spent each day living out God's teachings.

So, I spent my days feeding the poor, cleaning the Cathédrale, praying, fasting, and learning to read and write from the monks.

It took a year, but I became literate. I kept this secret from my father and mother, wanting to surprise them.

I was so proud, and so unbelievably happy!

As I rushed home, I found no one there. This wasn't unusual, father and mother often went into the village to shop at the market.

On this occasion I went into my father's study as I often did, and sat upon his cluttered desk.

It was then that I found a certain iron bound book.

Having nicked my finger earlier while cleaning the Cathédrale, a smear of my blood stained the cover, causing it to glow.

And then just as suddenly the lock snapped open.

I remember feeling so excited.

I refrained from sinning as much as possible but becoming literate proved to be too much of a temptation. I opened my father's journal and read.

"A feather of a phoenix is the source of eternal life

I have extracted the essence of each feather and plan to conduct further experimentation on them…

Phoenix tears of healing infused with the feather essence prevents the natural decay which leads to death.…The reaction for these substances has created hard scarlet minerals…stones perhaps?

Maledictus Curse incantation to imprison a wizard a success!

…throwing him off a great height proved favorable…immune to drowning, fire, poison…must try bloodletting Faulques…severing limbs or decapitation must be tested soon…

The Olivander's shop has offered a king ransomed for two feathers for wand making. I wonder who the lucky wizards will be?…The money should help buy ingredients for my experiments. Must wait for the next harvest moon to gather them.

The Elixir Of Life is nearly complete, immortality will soon be ours. Remaining question- how can I separate his humanity for good without losing his immortality? Perhaps I should experiment on Perenelle…"

The Next thing I remember is falling on my knees inside the Cathedral.

I must have apparated on my own because one moment I was standing in my father's study, and the next I was staring up at the stone statue of my savior, hanging from a cross.

I cried and fell prostrate on the floor, hating everything that I was. Cursing my magic and the curse which had fallen on me. My father wasn't the great Alchemist I had always known. Everything had been a lie, and I questioned my existence.

It was then I stood and drew out my wand.

I loved it as I loved my own body, but everything had changed.

And then I snapped it.

I snapped my own wand before that crucifix, and walked out of the Cathedral into the rain, which began to fall threateningly.

I walked like a ghost through the cobblestone streets, stumbling and falling into the gutter.

I feared going home.

Would my father decapitate me, or chop off my leg or arm?

And as I lay in the gutter, my fear dissipated and was replaced with pure hate.

My father, in his pursuit of immortality, had sacrificed my soul. Death had fled me, and so had the possibility for eternal life in heaven. My father had trapped me within the sinful mortal realm for all eternity, and I hated him for it.

I looked up into the dark sky, from my place in the gutter, and mourned my humanity.

I lived in a nearby forest for many days after that, too afraid to go home. Eventually as weeks passed I did.

In my grief and hatred, I convinced myself I was an abomination. With every day that passed, so did my own self loathing.

I was a simple country wizard- a boy, and by the age of fifteen I had become more than a Maledictus…

I had become an Obscural.

I terrorized the brothels, the cut throats waiting in alleys, the pimps and whores, and even innocents that crossed my path.

Maybe I saw it as a mercy, but mostly I wanted to seek out my revenge.

Eventually, my Obscurial form unleashed itself on my mother, Perenelle. I nearly killed her in the process when she only wanted to comfort me.

My father saved her through the Elixir, and then proceeded to drink it himself. He was afraid I would kill him.

He obliviated her again, and she had no memory of my attacking her.

And then my father created The Deathly Hallows.

Three items to make him the master of death.

He said they were for me- to protect me, but it was all a lie.

With the Elder Wand he was able to kill those in power, and eventually he won the favor of influential wizards by curing their maladies that He HIMSELF infected them with.

Nicholas Flamel, my father, played the game well.

He was the puppet master behind the creation of a wizarding government in France. From there his influence spread to other countries.

Every one of them played into his hands.

To the village he was Nicholas Flamel, the healer, the charitable, pious man who only lived to serve God through serving those in need.

But to me, he was the first Dark Lord I had ever known. Whether he knew it himself or not, my fathers ambition to create a world under his immortal control, was now an obsession.

Everyone is under his thumb, and they don't even realize it.

And then as time passed my father developed another terrible power.

Those who defied my father, or those political opponents he needed out of the way, he cast a spell on them, which turned them into golden statues. All he needed to do was touch them and recite the incantation "Midas clare tangere aeterna". Their flesh became hard, and their screams died in their throats. My father would laugh and call it The Midas Touch.

Yet another legend my father created.

It was after Nicholas developed this power that my father began preparations in building a grand Chateau in the Pyrones Mountains. It was a place he intended to keep his golden enemies, a place which gleamed with an innocent white, and gleamed with gold.

With each victim who fell prey to The Midas Touch, my father's collection of golden statues of witches and wizards continued to grow. Who knows how many there are today.

And my fathers obsession with white?

Simple.

White is sterile, cold, and without color. To others it may seem angelic or pure, but it's really a clean organized façade to what truly lied beneath the surface.

Nicholas hides behind the color, to conceal his nefarious nature.

Anything that ruined the illusion of perfection wasn't tolerated.

So, in my own rebellious way, I began wearing garish blood reds and blacks. Anything to separate myself from him.

It may seem like a wonderous thing to never die, but the reality of it is harrowing- but I'm sure you understand that now, Tom.

If a wizard as powerful as my father can live forever, no one is safe from him.

I have seen every childhood friend, teacher, loved one die- over and over again! And for me there is no respite! There is nothing worse than immortality, since in immortality there is no wish unfulfilled. And what is life without that motivation to pursue dreams in life since it is so brief?

To me Christs purpose upon this earth was to bring immortality after death through living a righteous life.

He took that away from me.

What my father did was heresy.

And I felt just as evil for being the source of it.

It was, after all, me that attacked my mother whether I was in control of it or not.

Seeing my mother nearly die because of my wicked power broke me.

"Did you do this to me, father!? Was it you who made me like this?" I screamed.

I had slit my wrists. To my horror golden blood dripped down my wrists and fell to the floor grotesquely.

"You're angry I made you perfect?" My father sneered in a manner that I couldn't have ever imagined my father doing "that I drove disease and decay from your magnificent body? Look around you! How many lives has the plague taken, how many of our friends? And what do you do? Mope and slit your wrists! You're a fool!"

"I don't change! It's been over a hundred years and I'm still no better than a child! I'll never be a man!" I was possessed with fury "but you didn't do this for me. You did this for YOU! You can lie to yourself, but not to me! You've been using me for that elixir of yours, that's why you lock me away!"

"I lock you away for your own protection! You can't control your magic! Look at what you did to your mother!" Nicholas shouted, rounding on the boy with hellish fury "You created a dark parasitical force from your own magic! Your own self-hatred of your magic did this! It needs to be contained! Had your mother not have taken my elixir, you seem to find so unsatisfactory, she would be dead by your own hands!"

I was unhinged, and far younger than I am today. I couldn't contain the volatile emotions that swelled within my magical core.

"I don't want to live anymore! I'm sick of living with this darkness! Don't you understand?! I don't want this anymore! I'm unnatural! I should be put to death!"

"You've been reading out of that book, again haven't you?" Nicholas roared, throwing his golden goblet against a tapestry "What have I told you about those Christians? They're mad fanatics! They destroy what they can't understand and call it beautiful! It sickens me!"

"Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live, father." I remembered whispering, with a strange hateful calmness "I cannot go on, don't you understand? Won't you try?...I want to die!"

"You're a fool, Faulques." my father said sadly.

"and you're the instrument of Satan, but not for long father!" I spat back, fetching my cloak "I'm going to the church. I'm going to tell them everything. Perhaps then I can find forgiveness and even blessed death!"

"You poor child... the Obscurial, you've manifested from your own self-hatred, must be contained! … and I cannot allow you to leave, my son…those phoenix feathers are far too precious. I'm sorry, but you've left me no choice. For everyone's protection you must remain in this form.

Before I could apparate away, my father extended his hand. I was thrown into a golden cage which seemed to appear out of thin air.

I felt my eyes become bright and fill with fiery light. My form began to dissolve into a rush of black wispy smoke and magic.

The Obscurial was taking over.

My father threw up wards around the cage. He began tracing runes in the air around me. And then I slowly reverted back. My father contained the Obscural.

"I hate you!" I screamed as I threw himself violently against the bars "I hate you, father!"

And then I boy shifted into my Maledictus form.

The phoenix I had become screeched painfully from its cage.

I remember my father turning away from the cage.

"Perhaps you are right about one thing, my son." He said quietly, ashamed of himself, yet lacking none of the courage of his conviction "I did do this for me…I cannot die. I cannot allow it. And neither can anyone I love."

I screeched in torment, trapped behind the bars of his golden cage.

"And so, I will bind you in this form. Eventually your mind will submit to the Phoenix, and then perhaps you will come to appreciate the wizard you had once been… And not hate yourself so."

I tried to fight the magic as my father encased his son in a ball of vibrant red light. The light grew brighter as did my painful screeches.

From that day on I was Fawkes.

My father kept me imprisoned for decades. He told my mother that my Obscural form destroyed me. She attached herself to the Pegasus that her father had given her years ago. She was comforted by them and allowed herself to heal.

Meanwhile, my father perfected and created the Sorcerer's Stone from years of painful experimentations on me.

My father seemed to forget I was his son, especially on those many occasions that he plucked every feather from my body and used it for his alchemy.

It was by this time that the magic around my cage began to wear off. I kept my human conscious and was able to keep my sanity. There's one particular wizard that did this fifty years into the future. He was sentenced to Azkaban and stayed in his Animagus form to keep his mind intact, I did the same.

Anyway, I managed to escape another hundred years later. I hid myself, which is where my past self is now. I know I will not cross paths with myself, so there is no worry.

….

"And now Nicholas Flamel, the man I once called father has begun his experimentations again." Faulques said quietly, finishing his story "This time on Hermione, Ronald, and Harry- who he knows have traveled from the future. He's already given them potions, whether they know it or not. He's brainwashing them into believing his intent is anything but malicious."

"But you're the one who brought them back." Tom sneered, shaking his head "You practically handed them over to your father."

"I did not think young Albus would appoint Nicholas ,of all people ,as guardian." Faulques sighed in frustration. "Albus was suppose to take them in himself. I assumed too much. I made a mistake."

Tom barked out a harsh laugh "A mistake is quiet the understatement! You brought people back in time, and practically handed them over to someone you consider a Dark Lord! Are you fucking serious!?"

"Just because I am immortal, doesn't mean I don't make mistakes. And in any case, I wouldn't have been able to stop him in my phoenix form." Faulques glared at Tom.

"And now you can?" Tom leered "How utterly convenient for you to suddenly transform back into a human, at the very moment I've regained my own humanity."

"I told you my time is limited!" Faulques shouted, pounding a fist to his chest "I could not transform before, I had used most of my magic on transporting by siblings back in time FIFTY YEARS! Even as one as old as I am, it is powerful magic!"

"Why did you choose me?" Tom asked dangerously, taking a threatening step forward "why not divulge this information to your precious trio?"

"You've seen what your fate could have been as a dark lord." Faulques sighed "With your soul split seven times, you were STILL powerful enough to take over the world. With your soul healed, you are now more powerful that you have ever been, even more so that your future self! You can change the world for good, Tom! YOU can save us! You've seen it in Hermione's mind. YOU are the main reason I have brought them to this time. I had to do something to change the future- to save our world."

"How?"

"Join forces with Hermione, Ron, and Harry. Whatever is in my father's iron bound book Hermione has, has secrets hidden within it. To the naked eye the book reads like a research notes, but there is more to it than that. The only way to reveal the true words written by my father is by smearing family blood onto the cover, just as I had—"

But whatever Faulques was about to say next was cut off by him doubling over as if in pain

"I..c-can't stay in this form-n-not… enough…magic!" Faulques cried out, wrapping his arms around his middle "warn the others of my father, find a way to free me!"

And then Faulques was consumed by fire. He screamed as his flesh was burned away and his phoenix form exploded from his human body which fell to the floor in ashes.

Tom fell to his knees, covering his ears as Faulques terrible screams echoed from within The Chamber of Secrets.

…

Harry sat at Perenelle's bedside in the hospital wing, which was blessedly empty. Except for a screened off bed in the back which held an unconscious Ursa Avery

Madam Leval left to attend to other students who had witnessed the bloody scene by the stables. She carried with her a bag full of calming draught and Dreamless sleep potions. The younger students had been quite traumatized and needed the matron's full attention.

Harry held Perenelle's hand in his own, squeezing it gently.

Beneath the starched linen lay his new mother. She was unnaturally pale which made Harry shake slightly.

He had no memory of Lily Potter, except of her screaming. He lived his whole life without knowing what it truly felt like to have a mother who cared for you.

Yes, Mrs. Weasley had treated him like one of her own, but this was different. When Harry saw Ron and his mother together, ugly jealously would rear its head like a viper ready to strike.

Harry could feel a familiar bond within his blood when he looked down at Perenelle. Unconsciously he began stroking her hand and rocked himself back and forth.

Was Tom Riddle responsible for the slaughter of his mother's Pegasus?

Where was Riddle, and why didn't he return to his bed last night?

A thought hit Harry as he continued to stroke his mothers cold hand.

The symbol of the Deathly Hallows.

The heads and limbs of the Pegasus were formed into that symbol. Not only that, but as far as Harry knew, Tom Riddle knew nothing about the Deathly Hallows... yet.

And if that's the case, he must not have been the culprit.

Then again, life was unpredictable when it came to Riddle and Harry.

Harry moved his free hand to the smooth space where his scar once sat.

At that moment Harry felt another familiar presence enter the hospital wing.

Harry smiled as he dropped his hand.

It was odd not having his scar.

He couldn't feel Tom at all. Last night when harry felt his connection break, he wondered if Tom was dead.

No. That was impossible. No one else knew of his horcruxes, and Harry doubted whether Tom destroyed his.

Yes, impossible.

Like Harry, Tom was a hard one to destroy.

"Hey" a deep sensual voice breathed from behind him.

"Hey Ron." Harry said quietly, accepting the powerful arms that draped over his shoulder.

"I tried to take Hermione back to the girl's dorms." He said leaning over to press a kiss against the base of Harry's neck. "but she insisted on going to the library."

Harry nodded, staring down at his blood bonded mother.

"She told me she doesn't remember what happened last night at dinner." Ron continued, stroking his fingers over Harry's collarbone, making the delicate boy close his eyes and lean into his touch.

"You think it was Tom?" Harry asked breathlessly.

"I know it was." Ron replied, placing a finger under Harry's chin, drawing his head back.

Harry open his eyes meeting Ron's golden eyes which had a hint of blue around the iris.

"Tom's a death worshiping murderer, Harry. And we were fools to think of him as an ordinary seventeen-year-old." Ron said quietly, glancing down at Perenelle "who else could have done this? Nicholas is with Headmaster Dippet and Dumbledore discussing it now."

"I don't know." Harry said, licking his lips "but Ron, I'm not sure it was Tom. The sign of the Hallows—"

"Its been him every time." Ron cut him off, pulling Harry to his feet, spinning him around so their noses were inches apart "Since we were eleven, there's only been one person behind all the bullshit we've been put through."

Ron pulled Harry closer to him by the waist.

"Awe, don't be so hard on Snape," Harry chuckled, stroking Ron's arms "He turned out to be alright in the end."

"You know what I mean." Ron replied seriously. "Hermione was wrong about redeeming Riddle. Its time we destroy him once and for all. He only has two horcruxes- that's nothing compared for seven."

Ron lifted one hand to brush Harry's smooth forehead and then dropped it down to cup his cheek tenderly. His heated gaze was unwavering and focused.

Before Harry could reply Ron closed the space, capturing Harrys lips with his own.

It was the first time either boy kissed one another without Hermione present, and for some reason it felt right.

Wickedly right.

Harry leaned into the kiss as Ron buried his hands in the boy's dark locks.

Ron worked his mouth down Harrys neck, nipping at kissing the boys radiant skin.

"I've always wanted you to do that." Harry mewled, feeling his cock begin to stir.

He pressed himself against Ron, tracing his fingers down his back and slowly removing the red heads outer cloak.

Harry's eyes were heavy-lidded as he eyed the red heads lips.

How many times had they embraced and kissed one another with Hermione between them? And yet, for all the times they did these things, they currently found themselves falling against one another as if it was there first time.

Harry let out a shaky breath

Ron let out a growl as he placed his hands under Harrys ass and lifted him up so that Harry's legs could wrap around him.

"Fuck!" Ron heard Harry breath as his hips buckled.

Both boys disappeared behind one of the many curtains which held am empty hospital bed.

"W-what about Mione?" Harry asked, as he was dropped unceremoniously onto the starched bed.

Ron crawled towards Harry, slowly working to unbuckle the boy's trousers.

"What about her?" Ron chuckled slipping down Harry's pants.

"We shouldn't….l-leave her…Oh!," Harry gasped as his cock sprang out, jutting against Ron's lips. "we really…ah…really shouldn't."

"I agree, and yet—" Ron responded before engulfing Harry's cock into his eager mouth.

Harry let out a small hiss as his hands found their way into Ron's vibrant red hair. He began rolling his hips, allowing his cock to slid in deeper as Ron worked his mouth up and down his shaft.

Harry released a soft sigh of content as the muscular red head spread his delicate legs farther apart.

Harry was torn. His muscles were taunt and begged for completion, and yet he thought of how they purposely left out Hermione.

However, that didn't stop either of them.

"Fuck me, Ron." Harry gasped, throwing back his head as Ron bobbed his head over Harrys swollen cock.

As Ron pulled back he took a moment to admire Harry's soft delicate body. His hand smoothed Harry's glistening cock before standing to unbutton his own trousers.

Placing a lubricating charm over his cock, Ron glanced down at Harry, placing his large hands under his thighs and bringing them up to his chest.

Harry could feel the base of Ron's thick cock stroking his opening playfully.

"You like that Harry? Tell me what you want." Ron whispered huskily.

"neh…Put it in- ah! Please!" Harry begged wantonly "fuck me- oh Merlin, please fuck me!"

"Then think of me, and only me" Ron hissed, allowing the head of his cock to penetrate Harry.

Harry nodded with a hiss, as his left his muscles squeeze around Ron's cock.

"Hurts?"

Harry nodded, gripping Ron's shoulder tightly "b-but I like it… Put it all in me, please!"

"you like-that?" Ron shoved half his cock inside of Harry violently, loving his small cry.

"Y-yes!"

"Merlin, you beg so nice."

Ron looked down at his cock halfway inside of Harrys firm ass and smiled. He reached down to stroke Harry's cock, smirking as it twitched in his hand.

"I'm going to fuck you, Harry." Ron breathed, as he continued stroking him "I'm going to slid every inch of me inside you, and I want you to think of nothing and no one but that."

Harry nodded, knowing he was talking about Hermione, but at that moment he didn't care. All that mattered was filling his need and sating his desire.

Without another word Ron slid himself all the way in and began a quick rhythm with long torturous strokes.

Harry cried out, covering his mouth with his hands as he sinfully arched into the touch. After a moment when his body became accustomed to the alien pleasure, Harry rolled his hips. He thrusted himself onto Ron's cock, loving the feeling of being impaled. He was delirious with inarticulate pleasure and pain.

Then as if remembering something, Harry withdrew his wand and cast a Notice Me Not, and a silencing spell around the curtained bed, which creaked harshly.

Neither of them had noticed Hermione come to the hospital wing, or that she heard every word.

Hermione clutched her newfound library books on memory charms, curses, and potions to her chest, as she strode out of the hospital wing. She could hear the boys place a silencing spell over them as she left.

I guess they finally figured it out, Hermione thought, smiling sadly.

She knew this day would come, being highly logical and keen to her best friends, afforded her this knowledge.

It was meant to be. whether they understood it or not.

It had always been Harry and Ron.

Ron and Harry.

Were it not for a troll in the dungeon, they might've never looked twice her way, but she was grateful they did.

She wanted to be happy for them- no, she was!

She was…

Hermione's heart clenched painfully in her chest. She didn't pay any mind to the tears that ran down her cheeks, or the lump in her throat.

She was happy for them.

Yes, very happy.

As she made her way back to the library, a thick tomb slipped from her trembling hands and fell to the stone floor with thud.

It was the last straw.

Letting out a shriek of frustration, Hermione raised her right hand towards a suit of armor and blasted it into oblivion. Blue flames erupted from the palm of her hand scorching the stone wall behind the armor.

Panting and shaking Hermione turned to blast another suit, when a small sound halted her.

"Hermione?" a small voice called from behind her.

Hermione turned to find little Fenrir and Lynall Lupin standing behind her, looking on with a mixture of concern and awe.

She was tempted to blast them as well…

Wait…what?

Quickly, Hermione wiped her tears with the back of her hand, and swooped down to grab her book, but Fenrir got there first.

Merlin, how she wished the boy didn't exist. She shivered as he knelt before her.

"I got it, Hermione." Fenrir smiled softly, rising to hand her book back.

"Yes. Thank you, Fenrir." Hermione said curtly, turning from the two first year boys.

Fenrir moved his blue eyes up and down her body, cocking his head to the side curiously.

"You're wearing your nightgown still." He commented innocently, staring down at her petite bare feet.

She looked down, noticing for the first time that she was still in her white nightgown, and the hem was stained with mud as her feet were.

"Yeah." Hermione nodded frowning "I didn't realize—"

"Its okay." Fenrir stepped forward to slip his small hand in hers.

Hermione looked down at their hands clasped.

He's just a boy, she thought, clutching her books tighter to her chest with her free hand.

Hermione tried to swallow, but it became more of a gulp.

"Sorry about that." Hermione said quickly, pulling her hand away.

"Its okay, sometimes I feel upset and lose control." Fenrir nodded, looking at the mess of scattered armor.

"Are you going to the library?" Fenrir asked, his eyes filled with empathy "Lyn and I are headed there too, wanna share a table?"

Lynall Lupin stepped forward, placing a hand on his best friend's shoulder.

"But if you'd rather not, its okay." Lynall said delicately with the tact of one much older. "We don't wanna intrude…especially after—"

"Hermione, I'm sorry about your horses- I mean Pegasus! It was so awful…I," Fenrir interrupted, bowing his head and twisting his hands nervously "I-I hope your mummy wakes up soon. We're all thinking about her."

Stunned at the sincerity of Greyback's words, Hermione tried to swallow the lump in her throat as she nodded.

"Thank you… Fenrir." Hermione said in a thin, fragile voice. "and I wouldn't mind a little quiet company while I study."

Lynall and Fenrir smiled, following behind Hermione like two ducklings into the library.

Hermione noticed how protective and composed Lynall seemed. He was a handsome boy with mousy brown hair and chocolate eyes.

Fenrir, on the other hand, was the exact opposite and seemed to treat Lynall like an older brother. Fenrir was warm hearted, friendly, gentle, and trusting to those around him.

It made Hermione wonder how such a boy would grow up to be…

No, she didn't want to think about that.

"I like using the table in the back." Hermione said tightly, remember the way Tom broke her fingers near that very table.

"Oh great spot!" Fenrir said, pulling a used potions book and a quill from his satchel.

"Quiet company, Fen." Lynall reminded gently, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder as he sat next to him.

Hermione noted the four books on werewolves Lynall Lupin unshrunk and took out of his bag.

"Interested in magical beasts?" Hermione tried to ask offhandedly, setting down her books.

Lynall didn't bother glancing up at Hermione as he gave Fenrir a blank notepad and organized his own notes.

"You can say that." Lynall shrugged with a smirk, flipping to a chapter without saying more.

"Lyn, wants to work in the Department of Regulation and Control Of Magical Creatures when he graduates." Fenrir smiled, elbowing Lynall's side proudly "He likes to read all kinds of stuff on em!"

"Inside voices." Lynall reminded his friend.

Fenrir make a motion across his lips like a zipper, smiling mischievously.

"So, you like werewolves, I see." Hermione said trying to get her mind off of Harry and Ron.

"No." Lynall Lupin replied simply, his chocolate eyes growing cold.

Hermione stared unblinking at the Lynall then to Fenrir who shrugged his shoulders in response.

"Lyn thinks the wolves have too many rights, or something." Fenrir shrugged uninterested, finding a Bertie Botts jelly bean in his robes and popping it happily into his mouth.

"If our government continues giving those animals liberties without proper control, I guarantee its going to come back and bite us- literally." Lynall finished, burying his nose into his book. "They're mindless beasts. Dad says so."

Hermione froze, staring numbly between the two boys, and felt the mad urge to laugh out hysterically.

She was torn between laughing and crying and screaming, but instead opened her first book on memory curses and began reading.

Some days she really hated her life.

.

A/N— Next chapter 'TAKEN'.

If you remember there are scenes I have written in Chateau Dior, Nicholas's home, that the golden statues make an appearance. And they will again in the future. Hermione stumbles into the room in chapter 4, and the flashback of young Albus and Gellert hid in the room to 'get it on' in chapter 9.


	13. Taken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm which they are taken

Chapter 13  
A/N—*peeks over chapter eating a sandwich* oh…your still here? It's been a few months, huh? Ha ha…Please forgive me! I have school and I've had a bad case of food poisoning, and so much going on! And I'm trash, but still keep reading please!

Here's ch 13!

I'll be posting my stories on FB at Robintheslytherin

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Through The Cyclone Of The Phoenix

By- RobinTheSlytherin

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Chapter 13

Taken

.

"Hell is empty.

The devils are here"

-William Shakespeare-

.

Two hours passed before Lynall Lupin muttered something into Fenrir's ear and began packing up.

Greyback, on the other hand, was mindlessly doodling in image of a stick boy and a large dog holding hands, in his Magical Creatures textbook. Underneath the image of the stick boy was the name 'Lynny'.

This did not go unnoticed by Hermione who looked between Lupin and Greyback numbly, as if someone had scooped out her insides and replaced them with ice…

"Thank you for allowing us to join you, Ms. Flamel—er…Hermione." Lynall said politely with a slight nod of his head before pausing. "And…as Fen said before, we truly are sorry about your mother's Pegasus. I hope she wakes up soon."

Hermione looked up to meet Lynall Lupin's chocolate brown eyes that remined her so much of Remus. He really was a sweet boy. She wanted to smile back at the Lupin but couldn't. The only thought racing through her head, was how to save a friendship fated to break both boys apart. A dissolvement that would impact the future so violently.

She would save them. There was no turning her back on them now.

"I…I really enjoyed your company, Lynall." Hermione said softly, unable to look away from the boy "You and Fenrir, both."

Lynall nodded, turning to swing his bag over his shoulder "See you at dinner—and Fen stop drawing in your books. Professor Grumbly-Plank is going to feed you to the Giant Squid if she finds out."

"Nah, she likes me!" Fenrir giggled, earning a playful punch from Lynall "Oi! Save me some chocolate pudding if you get there before me! The older years always take it all before I can."

"And why should I?" Lynall asked, his expression pinched "the last time you ate my pudding—perhaps I'll eats yours too?"

"I mean it, Lynny! I'm really looking forward to it tonight!" Fenrir whinned

"Then be on time for once." Lynall smirked down at Greyback, ruffling his friends black hair "see you at dinner."

Fenrir waved the mousy haired boy off enthusiastically, then turned back around to continue doodling in his textbook.

"Lynall?" Hermione called, as Lynall Lupin stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. Hermione studied the boy gravely. "I'm very glad I met you, both of you. Fenrir is lucky to have a friend like you. Don't ever lose that."

Lupin appeared uncomfortable at such bluntness, but glanced back at Fenrir wearing a softer expression

Hermione glanced down at Lynall's bookbag "I know you what you believe werewolves to be, but I think if you are to have a full grasp on werewolves…you should speak to one. Or at least read a book about werewolves- written by one. It will give you a better understanding."

Lynall stared at Hermione with a sharp calculating eye before turning on his heel without a backward glance. She could have thought she saw a flicker of curiosity behind the boy's eye before he turned away.

"Maybe." Hermione heard the boy mutter, the tails of his robes flickering out of sight.

After a moment Hermione sagged back into her chair, sighing tiredly.

She hadn't found anything to help her recover whatever memories she might have lost, except for a potion that forced you to recall every memory—good or bad all at once. Such a potion caused many to be driven mad, but still…she had to try.

Whatever memory that was taken from her must have been important.

"Hermione?" Fenrir asked curiously, looking at her strangely "Why did you tell Lyn all that stuff?"

"About werewolves?"

"About our friendship." Fenrir said, still concentrating on his drawing "It sounded like…like…erm. Never mind."

Hermione didn't know what to say, and frankly didn't want to reveal anything else, so she gathered her book and tucked in her chair.

"Are we done studying now?" Fenrir asked excitedly, his blue eyes lighting up.

"You didn't even study." Hermione chuckled, preferring the sweet mischievous boy to his elder counterpart.

"Oh yeah." Fenrir flashed a toothy smirked "Guess not."

For the first time Hermione gave Fenrir a genuine smile as she turned to leave "See you later Fenrir."

"Wait! I'll walk with you!" Fenrir said quickly gathering his book and notebook and tossing it carelessly into his worn bookbag "Can I see the Slytherin Common Room? I'm really curious! Older Slytherins say they see mermaids swimming by their dorm room windows! Is it true your common room is decorated with skulls? Have you ever seen the giant squid?!"

"Erm…I don't think visiting our common room is a good idea at the moment." Hermione scratched the back of her neck "Especially after everything that happened this morning."

Hermione bit her lip. She felt a darkness swell in her chest. She felt angry. Why did death always have to follow her? She found herself shaking with effort to control her emotions. She should be used to this sort of thing by now, and yet…

"Hermione?" Fenrir sagged in disappointment.

"But another day, perhaps?" Hermione offered.

Fenrir looked up affectionately at Hermione and without warning bounded forward and wrapped his small arms around her middle, hugging her tightly.

"Thanks Hermione! You're the best!" Fenrir said delighted, continuing to hug her fiercely "I'm glad I met you too!"

No sooner than those words left Fenrir Greyback's lips did the black stone necklace around Hermione's neck begin to warm against her chest.

Hermione jerked her chin towards the stone and began to reach for it as it became painfully hot.

"Fenrir! Let go- let go! —" But Hermione's words were lost as a tug pulled her and Fenrir back hard- so hard she could feel her head whip forward painfully.

Hermione's vision blurred as the library vanished, leaving behind Fenrir's book bag.

His Care of Magical Creatures book tumbled out so that his drawing of the boy and wolf holding hands flipped face up.

Only Fenrir had drawn another figure, on the opposite side of the boy. It was an image of a stick girl holding the other wolfs paw and smiling.

…..

As soon as Harry and Ron dressed themselves, they left the infirmary, smiling secretly and walking shoulder to shoulder.

Neither of noticed an orange flash that followed, inside of the infirmary.

Nicholas Flamel lifted a Dissolution charm, and silently stepped inside the Hospital Wing. His gold eyes narrowed as the doors closed.

Beside Perenelle, perched on the railing above her bed was a crimson swan-like bird. Tears rolled down the phoenix's beak and into his wife's parted mouth.

"I knew it was you." Nicholas muttered, his golden robe trailed behind him regally "I would have thought you smart enough to stay away."

Fawkes snapped his head up to meet Nicholas's penetrating gold eyes.

Another flash of bright light exploded through the Infirmary. Nicholas refused to flinch or blink as Fawkes transformed into Faulques.

The only problem was he was only half transformed. Feathers covered his shoulders and back, his talons hadn't turned into hands, and the dilation of his eyes remained hawk-like.

Nicholas saw what a struggle it was for his son to remain in human form. His son's golden eyes burned with hatred.

"Mother drew her power from the Pegasus, you murderous snake!" Faulques hissed, taking hold of his mother's wrist, possessively. "Was slaughtering them another sick experimentation of yours?"

"I did nothing to them…but you on the other hand, might have. It was foolish of you to come here." Nicholas smiled, studying Faulques keenly "I cannot allow you to leave…take your talons off of your mother, and I'll show you mercy…I love you my son."

"Love?" Faulques laughed weakly, with a shuddering breath "Your love was the evilest form of destruction upon our family!"

"I alone made this world our kingdom." Nicholas said simply splaying his hands "I gave you the gift of immortality- I gave you life."

"YOU GAVE ME HELL! I'll never allowing you to hurt us again, father." Faulques laughed bitterly "Your time is up. I've made sure of it."

Nicholas froze, his golden pupils narrowing "What have you done?"

Faulques flinched, his magic weakening, but continued to smile in grim triumph.

"The trouble with you, father, is that you think have time." Faulques laughed, glancing down at the crimson stone sitting around his father's neck.

With one hand, Nicholas cluthed the stone, and with the other he extended his hand … however, Faulques flames as quicker.

The explosion shot Nicholas back through the glass window of the Infirmary and down the cliffside.

The last thing Nicholas saw, as he fell, was a flash of light engulfing his son into Fawkes. Both Perenelle and he disappeared into the flames.

Nicholas Flamel roared, as he fell seventy feet towards the depth of the Black Lake.

…..

It was dinner time before Ron and Harry noticed that they still hadn't seen Hermione.

"Think a troll cornered her in the girl's bathroom?" Harry asked, his food remained untouched as did Ron's.

"If it was a troll I wouldn't feel so uneasy." Ron replied, digging his dinner knife into the wood table, and twisting it.

For the past half hour Abraxas Malfoy snaked his way through the tables, stopping to speak to a handful of students.

"What's Malfoy doing?" Ron asked, eyeing ehe blonde speculatively as Abraxas cracked a smile to a fellow student.

Rostislav grinned wolfishly playing his steak knife "The seventh year he's talking to is the Minister's son."

Ron raised his eyebrows in surprise, crossing his muscular arms over his chest.

"Didn't know he could smile." Harry commented quietly, looking on as the boy Malfoy spoke to offered up his hand. Abraxas took it, smiling in polite satisfaction.

Rostislav continued playing with his steak knife, pushing his peas, one by one, to the other side of his plate "He also went to the Hufflepuff table to speak with Abbot. His parents are the head directors over St. Mungo's. As well as the Longbottom's, Bones, Potters, and Weasleys. Each one offered their hands to him."

"Why?" Ron asked, clearly surprised and annoyed to hear his own family offering up any sort of allegiance.

"Why indeed?" Ros laughed as he pushed the last tiny pea to the other side of his plate. "Looks like a power play of some kind, but I don't know his motives."

"Those families are ones Abraxas has, until now, kept at a distance." Orion Black commented as he eyed a snobbish pale girl at the end of the Slytherin table, with interest.

Abraxas finally strode back towards the Slytherin table looking forbidding.

Abraxas sat between Orion Black, and Rostislav Lestrange who huddled together in quiet conversation.

Both Ron or Harry noticed their grim expressions as Abraxas spoke to them but remained silent as they overheard the chilling conversation.

"Avery remains in Madam Levels care. She tells me he will be released in a few days." Abraxas commented, folding his long pale fingers atop the table.

"It makes no sense...Ursa is an absolute genius with potions, there's no way he would have made such a mistake." Rostislav whispered with a sly grin.

"You sound as if you don't believe it." Orion said, eyeing the long haired Slytherin.

"I don't." Ros bit his bottom lip as he smiled mischievously. "Every now and then I have a little fun with Ursa and slip a little something into his morning goblet. But he's never without a bezoar or some sort of antidote. He's no fun."

Harry tried not to choke on his own goblet of pumpkin juice as he nearly spat it back out. Ron too eyed his drink with horror but made no move to interrupt the conversation.

Orion nodded, his keen and penetrating eyes narrowing "Haven't seen Riddle all day… As a matter- a- fact he was the only one of us missing from the Quidditch match the day Ursa was injured. Funny isn't it?"

"Tom doesn't like going to the matches, so what?" Ros shrugged, swirling his finger in the juice in his goblet, then licking it.

"There's more to it than that. Much more." Abraxas whispered venomously "I suggest you speak with your own sister, Orion. Find out if she's been experiencing memory loss."

At this, Ron jerked his head around, having heard the last bit about memory loss.

"What about memory loss?" Ron interrupted, sliding down his bench.

Abraxas studied the red head through his silver blonde hair, curtaining his face.

"You said 'she's been experiencing memory loss'." Ron repeated, as Harry slid down the bench. His thighs touching Ron's.

"Yes, my sister." Malfoy said quietly. "Although, why this interests you is suspicious."

"Hermione- our sister doesn't remember speaking to you last night. She doesn't remember anything about last night." Ron explained bluntly "She believes- we believe someone has obliviated her."

Abraxas silver eyes flickered over the Ron's shoulder. His silver eyes narrowed into thin slits like a predator who found his prey.

"Someone?" Abraxas stiffened, causing Ron, Harry, Ros, and Orion to turn towards the subject of Malfoy's cold gaze.

Walking down the hall towards the Slytherin table was Tom Riddle. He looked sleep deprived but remained an imposing, yet charming figure.

He wore high collared black robes, with his wavy black hair neatly combed. His piercing blue eyes narrowed as he approached the others.

"Riddle." Harry said looking into Tom's eyes, as if searching for any thread of connection between the two. Instinctively his hand reached for the scar on his forehead that no longer existed.

Ron spun around on the bench, looking at Riddle as if he were about to play a game of chess.

"Where have you been Riddle?" Ron asked bluntly "There's been quite a lot happening in your absence."

Tom sat across from Orion, Abraxas, and Rostislav, not bothering to acknowledge them.

"I left on a day trip to see Mr. Borgen and Mr. Burke in Knockturn Alley." Tom said without a pause, tucking in to serve himself a buttered potato. "It's the weekend, and Headmaster Dippet granted me permission."

Tom reached into his robes to pull out a scroll, tossing it into the center of the table. Ron was the first to snatch it and unroll it.

Rostislav and Harry leaned over his shoulder to read along with Ron.

"Your going to work for Borgen after graduation?" Lestrange wrinkled his thin nose in distaste "It's a hovel."

"Why would you take such a position with grades like yours?" Orion asked bluntly, as Ron handed him the scroll. "Seems a bit beneath you."

Tom's blue eyes narrowed, a ghost of a smile playing around the corner of his mouth.

"Seems a waste of your talents, which begs the question as to what your motivation will be?" Abraxas stated coldly, taking a dignified drink from his goblet avoiding Riddle's eyes.

Tom lifted his head to stare at each boy as if they had some sort of demented death wish.

"You still haven't told me what's happened while I was away." Tom tutted lightly with superficial charm, as his eyes flashed dangerously "I wonder what you might be hiding?"

Harry noticed how Malfoy's jaw tightened but said nothing.

"Our mother's Pegasus were… viciously slaughtered." Harry explained, as Ron squeezed his thigh "Our mother is in the hospital wing, and we haven't seen our sister since this morning."

"um…excuse me?" a young voice asked from behind Harry.

All eyes turned to meet the sandy haired first year.

Harry and Ron noticed the familiar mannerisms and physical features of the boy.

"I'm Lynall Lupin from Gryffindor." The boy spoke formally

"Yes, I remember," Harry smiled fondly.

"I…I was with Hermione and Fenrir Greyback this afternoon, but I haven't seen Fenrir all evening. Do you know if he's with Hermione?" Lynall's moon like eyes seemed to bore into Harry.

"We haven't seen her either." Ron leered, throwing Tom a suspicious glare.

Tom's eyes traveled between Lupin, Harry, and Ron before setting aside his fork, and folding his hands under his sharp chin.

"Have you gone to your head of house, Lupin?" Riddle asked gently.

"I can't find professor Dumbledore, the last time I saw him was this morning with Mister Flamel." Lynall said anxiously. "And Headmaster Dippet isn't here either. I haven't seen him since…erm—"

"This morning?" Harry offered, as Lynall nodded.

This time Tom turned to glare at Harry and Ron.

"Did you not think after this mornings events that watching over your sister might be prudent?" Tom asked dangerously, looking livid "Did it ever cross your mind that the killer may still be within the walls of the castle still?"

Ron leaned forward, pointing his steak knife threateningly inches from Toms face "Oh, its crossed our minds alright, Riddle."

"Kindly take that out of my face, Flamel." Riddle sneered back.

"Or what, going to stick it in my neck?"

"After I skin you like a snake." Tom smiled, pulling his crimson wand from his pocket.

"Speaking of snakes." Ron shot back.

"Enough! Hermione is missing!" Harry shouted, slamming his fist against the table "c'mon Ron, we need to find her!"

"We need a plan!"

"Like that ever works!" Harry snapped, leaping to his feet "we plan, we get there, all hell breaks loose. Let's go."

As Harry's slender form dragged Ron away, Ron threw Tom one last glare. Abraxas on the other hand watched Harry and Ron keenly, his grey eyes shifting back and forth between the two. Still, abraxas kept his mask firmly in place.

All the while, Tom seethed, then a few minuets later rose to his feet and made his way out.

He remembered seeing Lord Trochar give Hermione an onyx amulet, in her memories. He remembered Trochar explaining what it did, and that he would see her again…

Adrenaline coursed through his chest, and a foreboding that ate at his gut.

He hoped whatever he was feeling would go away. He wasn't use so such emotions, it was new, and rather exciting…but mostly it was irritating.

Hermione…

He headed towards the owlery.

He needed to send a message.

…

Her head was splitting. This was the first thing Hermione note. The second was a frantic voice and a pair of small hands shaking her.

"Hermione, please wake up! Please please!" the high voice begged.

Hermione could feel a cold stone floor beneath her and how very sore her body felt. Her muscles refused to move, and the pain in her head worsened.

"Oh Merlin! I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do! Please wake up! Please Hermione!"

Hermione snapped her eyes open causing Fenrir to gasp in surprise.

"Oh Hermione! Are you okay? Your head is bleeding! I tried to stop it- Hermione?" Fenrir squeaked, wringing his hands anxiously.

Fenrir helped Hermione sit up by pulling her shoulders. She grimaced as she sat up, feeling the room begin to spin. She allowed Fenrir to help her, only flinching when he grabbed her shoulders.

She focused her blurred vision until everything became painfully clear.

"Oh Merlin, my head is killing me." Hermione blinked as she tried rubbing her face with her hands but was stopped by a loud clanking.

Her wrists had been chained away, and her arms open wide on either side of her. She had just slack from the chains to rest her head on the cold floor, but couldn't put down her arm, which were starting to feel sore.

"W-what?"

The next thing she noticed was the tiny cell they were locked in. Where the door should have been, were thick metal bars.

Hermione tried to ignore the claustrophobic effect the cell gave her. It was windowless, cold, and dark.

"I tried pulling the chains, but they're stuck in the wall." Fenrir said in a small voice full of shame "If only I was stronger, then I could get you out...b-but—"

"Fen, its okay." Hermione shook her head, "Everything is okay. Just tell me what happened."

Fenrir had moved to stand by the door, leaning his head against the bars. His back was turned to Hermione, but she could tell the boy was crying. His shoulders shook, and his body wracked with silent sobs. He slid down the bars to his knees.

Hermione's mind wandered, yet again, to the Greyback of her future. Looking at Fenrir now, scared and trembling, she could only feel pity for the boy.

"Fenrir?" Hermione whispered, as she tried crawling towards him, but was instantly stopped by the chains.

Again, Hermione ignored the dizziness that threatened to overtake her. "Fen, I need to tell me what happened."

"du-know." Fenrir sniffed, dragging his sleeve across his nose. "We…we were taken from Hogwarts. You held onto me and broke our fall. I'm okay, but you hurt your head. And then I felt someone stun me."

"Did you see anyone before you passed out?" she asked, pulling at the chains as hard as she could.

"No, I didn't see anyone." Fenrir breath, looking up at Hermione in horror "but I heard an echoing laugh, and for a moment…I…"

Fenrir paused, scooting away from the bars.

"What Fen?" Hermione asked, using the boys nickname to put him at ease.

Fenrir looked up, his eyes trembling and glazed with a fearful expression.

"For a moment, I thought I saw a pair of yellow eyes watching me…glowing in the darkness on the other side of the bars." Fenrir whispered in a shaky voice "and…and they looked hungry."

Hermione's breath caught in her chest. She froze like a deer in the headlights, and then just as quickly began a frantic effort jerking her chains.

The vampires…Trochar?

No….no no no no .

"C'mon!" Hermione grunted placing her feet against the right wall and pushed as hard as she could against the chain on her right wrist.

Fenrir gasped as Hermione's wrist began to bleed and turn purple. Her face deepened into a deep shade of red, swearing angrily.

"Hermione…I'm scared." Fenrir whispered as he saw how desperate and frightened the older girl looked.

"You need to get out of here, Fen! You need—" Hermione paused, her face lighting up suddenly. "Come here Fenrir, hurry!"

The boy scurried over to where she was, kneeling by her side.

"Listen to me- no stop crying and listen!" Hermione whispered panic stricken "I need you to take the gold ring off my right hand- take it off now and put it on!"

Fenrir shook but did as he was told.

Hermione sighed a breath of relief as the ring shrunk to fit the boy's small fingers.

"Good boy," Hermione smiled as Fenrir blushed "Now twist it three times counter clockwise… and Fen, don't scream."

Fenrir looked at Hermione skeptically, but obeyed her command.

At that moment light encompassed Fenrir, cladding his body in her armor that shrunk to fit his small stature. On his hands, golden gauntlets that resembled claws glittered in the darkness. Hermione could see the shield on his back, and whip hanging at his hip.

"Whoa! Hermione what—?"

"Shh, listen to me, I want you to bring the gauntlets down on my chains."

"What's a gauntlet?" Fenrir asked looking down at himself

"These," Hermione said grabbing his clawed hands "They should be able to cut through these. Just swipe down hard."

"But I'm not that strong!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes solemnly "Yes… you are Fen."

Looking like a lion cub, overly confident and sure, he summoned up his courage and squared his shoulders.

"Okay." He said, rising his hand "I'll try. I can feel the armor linking to me."

Hermione pulled at the chain tight, as Fenrir brought down his claw gauntlet and struck the chain.

There was a loud sound as the claw connected with the chain… which refused to break.

"No!" Fenrir cried, "Let me try again!"

Again, and again he tried to no avail, by the end he was no longer crying but raging with frustration and anger.

"Fen—"

"No, I can do it!" Fen shouted striking the chain harder and harder.

"Fenrir, these chains are obviously imbued with strong magic- stronger than my armor. Even if I struck them, I'm sure they wouldn't even crack."

"But I have to free you!" Fen shouted, clenching his fists at his side in frustration. "There's no one but me!"

"You have to free yourself first, now het the whip at your waist and tie one end of it to the bars and give the other end to me." Hermione instructed, praying magic wasn't placed on them.

Fenrir made quick work fastening the end of the whip. Hermione cocked an eyebrow at the intricate knot, as the boy shrugged.

"My dad likes to take me sailing during the summer hols" He explained hurrying to wrap the opposite end of the whip about Hermione's left hand "He caught me how to make proper knots…didn't think I'd ever have a need for it."

"Its brilliant Fen, now step back and get ready to make a run for it." Hermione smiled.

"I'm not leaving you!"

Hermione squeezed the whip in her hand and smiled down at Fenrir Greyback.

"Yes, you are, you need to find a way out and run as fast as you can. Get out of here, and as soon as you get outside, stick out your wand arm and the Night bus will come. Tell the conductor that you're a Hogwarts student and you're in trouble. They'll get you back to Hogwarts, then the conductor can tell Albus- I mean Professor Dumbledore where he found you!" Hermione spoke quickly "Take my armor. It will protect you against most spells and hexes. Use the whip on anyone who tried to stop you! It'll slice them like butter."

Fenrir looked shocked "I don't know how—"

"Grip the whip tightly and it will obey your commands. My father designed it himself- he even made it dragon fire proof." Hermione smirked, lifting herself off her knees and stood on wabbly legs. "When I yank the whip, take it and stand in the hall for a moment. See if you can feel a breeze or a door. Go towards the breeze and run for your life until you get outside."

Fenrir nodded bravely, looking very much like a prince ready to save a princess from a dragon.

"I think those yellow eyes you saw earlier vampires. Either way, run fast and don't look back. Your life may depend on it." Hermione said one last time before she dropped a single kiss on the top of the boy's messy black hair that reminded her so much of Harry, and by extension Ron.

With a hard yank, Hermione used all her body weight to jerk at the bars. Two of them bent sideways with a creek, allowing enough room for Fenrir's small body to slip through. She let go of the whip so Fenrir to take it, wrapping it around his small hand.

He stood in the dark hall for a moment and then perked up. He was quiet as he pointed to the right and gave Hermione a final wave goodbye.

"I'll save you, Hemione." He whispered squeezing the bard on the other side "I promise, I will."

Hermione felt her heart clench, as the boy seemed to grow into a man in a blink of an eye.

She nodded, her golden eyes blinded with tears as she smiled "I believe you Fen."

He ran out of sight, his footsteps fading away until nothing, but the silence and darkness surrounded her.

She had been captured…again.

And this time she wasn't so sure she would come out alive but knowing what she had endured before Hermione smiled cruelly.

Well, at least I know how to make hell feel like home….

"I can see you feel quite pleased with yourself."

Hermione jerked back as a tall, regal figure appeared out of nowhere, standing inches from her.

Hermione hit the stone wall behind her in shock, as her chains keeping her arms apart.

"You said you meant to change things for my people…you were so sincere and pretty when you said it. And yet your murdering alchemist father was the same one who used the Angel Orb that killed half my clan." The pale man whispered almost lovingly.

Hermione studied his smooth aristocratic face, his yellow eyes, tinted with red. She studied his narrow nose, and arch black eyebrows, his silky black hair that hung past his shoulders neatly. His handsome smile widened, displaying a pair of sharp fangs. His eyes seemed aloof, and yet he was smiling.

He slipped his hand into his black robes and withdrew a golden chain with that held a black stone.

"Lord Trochar?" Hermione had only seen him badly burned from that night in the forest. This man…vampire standing before her was erethreal and unearthly in beauty.

"Her-Mion-eee" Trochar enunciated slowly "My pretty little liar."

"Lord Trochar, I never lied to you…I offered myself up to you as a blood offering anytime you required, and I gave you my word—"

SLAP!

Hermione's face cracked to the side painfully, as she was struck by a hand that moved faster than she could see.

Trochar grabbed her chin, digging his nails into her skin as he held her inches from his face.

"Your father…and by extension you are the cause of death to the ones I've loved for centuries!" Trochar hissed, jerking her head to the side to expose the white flesh of her neck. "Your little "offering" was nothing more than a tool to manipulate me in my weakened state. I was not thinking clearly at the time."

"I wasn't trying to manipulate you!"

"It matters not." Trochar sneered, allowing his nose to stroke the skin on her neck gently, inhaling deeply. "What matters now is the retribution I must give your father. I must take from him what he took from me… but not until thou suffer just a little longer, for my pleasure."

"Goest and fucketh thyself. I'm not afraid of you." Hemione spat hatefully.

"Language." Trochar chided, withdrawing and took her by the chin again, forcing her to look into his eyes.

"And I believe you." He said quietly, furrowing his brow as he studied her "I see so much pain. I see war in your eyes, and death…So much pain for someone so young."

"I fear no evil." Hermione glared, allowing Trochar to stroke her face. "The shadow is mine, and so is the valley."

"Ah…There it is. The reason I saw fit to give you the stone… Perhaps I should just turn you instead?"

"I offer myself as an ally and you betray me." Hermione shuttered as he leaned forward to kiss her warm neck.

"No, Hermione." Trochar whispered "It was you who betrayed me first. Such a foolish thing."

Hermione refused to flinch as Trochar sank his teeth into her and moaned as he drank his fill. As she began to feel light headed, he withdrew just enough to let her blood run down her white nightgown, staining it brightly.

"But not as foolish as letting the boy escape." Trochar chuckled in amusement "There are werewolves that live in the forest that surround Numenguard, and I'm sure they've found him by now."


	14. The Alpha and The Whip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm which Hermione decends into darkness and Tom comes to her aid

Chapter 14  
A/N—hello darkness my old friend….

Through The Cyclone Of The Phoenix

By- RobinTheSlytherin

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Chapter 14

The Alpha and The Whip

.

"Beware; for I am fearless, and therefore powerful."

-Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley-

'Frankenstein'

.

The prison was a maze, Fenrir thought, panting heavily.

But he did as he was told and followed the faint wisp of air towards its opening.

He encountered no one, but heard echoing sounds of screaming, and cries of pain.

And then he saw it!

It was a crack in the stone barely big enough for Fenrir to squeeze through.

He had to twist the ring so that his armor would disappear, and he could slip through. Once outside he was able to twist the ring again.

Fenrir looked around desperately. The prison was on an edge of a cliff, above trashing angry waves. It was also dark.

Fenrir didn't notice the full moon rising over the clouds.

And even if he did, he wouldn't think much of it.

He raised his wand hand as Hermione instructed, but nothing happened.

Must still be within the wards, he thought looking around.

And then he heard it.

Multiple growling sounds came from a thicket of trees, and then Fenrir saw something that made his blood run cold

Within the trees were a dozen sets of glowing eyes.

Werewolves….

Fenrir gulped taking one hesitate step back.

His heart hammered within his small chest, and paralyzing fear run through his veins.

He thought of Hermione and his promise to save her, and just as suddenly felt a rush of courage burst through his chest.

His legs were moving, running away from the pounding paws that chased him.

Still, Fenrir ran as fast as he could.

He couldn't breath and his heart would surely explode, but still he kept going.

If only he had his wand!

Finally, Fenrir saw the edge of the glowing anti magic barrier. Werewolves, being magical creatures would not be able to cross it without a wizard's help.

Fenrir was feet away from the barrier when he leapt through it.

Or at least he almost did.

Halfway out, Fenrir was yanked back violently.

And then his world exploded with unimaginable pain when the wolf pinned him down…

And sank its teeth into Fenrir's neck.

He screamed as he felt the wolf rip a chunk out of him.

Without much thought, Fenrir grabbed his whip and twisted it around the wolf's neck.

The werewolf hadn't expected Fenrir to fight back and gasped in surprise as the boy yanked the golden whip as hard as he could.

And the wolf's head came off its shoulders with one quick tug.

Blood and gore sprayed over Fenrir as he gasped and scrambled over the barrier.

The other wolfs watched on as the boy killed their pack leader, Adolfo.

They eyed the sobbing boy, and his bite with newfound excitement. The pack lowered their heads, exposing the backs of their necks in submission and acceptance.

Still struggling to get away, Fenrir held the bleed8ng side of his neck with one hand and lifted his wand hand to summon the night bus.

The Night Bus screeched to a halt, opening its purple doors to welcome him.

Fenrir twisted his ring, shaking and sheet white as the golden armor disappeared.

"Crikey lad! Get on quick! Oh Merlin, your hurt!" Ernie the conductors gasped, pulling Fenrir aboard when he saw the werewolves "By Merlin!"

"Hog…Hogwarts." Fenrir breathed in shock and pure terror "Headmaster D-Dumbledore! Please!"

"Right-o lad, sit down, hold this to your neck!" Ernie said shoving a sheet into his hand from one of the wobbling beds "Take her away Johnny! Hogwarts, and make it quick!"

As the Night Bus disappeared into the night, the glowing eyes of the wolf pack flickered over one another in agreement.

It seemed they had a new master, whether the boy knew it or not.

To kill the alpha, made one an alpha.

And the boy had already been bitten…

It was only a matter of time before he came back to them…

As their new pack alpha.

…..…..…..…..

Hermione was thrown roughly onto the stone floor. The chains prevented her arms from lowering, but it was enough for her head to smash onto the ground causing a sharp gasp to escape her.

Her head had already been injured, and the pain was making her feel sick.

Trochar had drained Hermione to the point of utter weakness, and yet she remained conscious. She felt the vampire's cold hands grabbing her and pulling her to her knees.

Hermione's vision blurred in and out of focus, but she could see Trochar inches from her face.

"Those eyes," Trochar whispered "Those golden eyes, so much like your murderous father's. Perhaps I should pluck them out and put them into a nice jar?"

Hermione looked up into the vampire's yellow orbs that held so much hatred.

"I have nothing to do with what Nicholas did to your clan!" Hermione hissed between her clenched teeth, trying to relieve her pain. "Your fight isn't with me!"

Trochar suddenly walked away from Hermione to lean against the opposite wall.

"But it is, don't you see?" Trochar spat with fustration lacing his voice "His golden blood runs through your perfect veins. And as such, so does his legacy of murder and deceit. I could taste him within you when I drank from you."

"I wanted to help you." Hermione could barely breathe.

"Nicholas Flamel is playing you like a chess piece in a game he knows he will win! He is an immortal, and as such cannot die…but you." Trochar smiled "you can."

Already Hermione could feel her wound repairing itself slowly.

"Although, it may take a little effort to do so." Trochar laughed "and by the time I'm finished with you, you'll understand that your beloved father is nothing more than a spider."

Hermione stared at the vampire blankly, refusing to make further conversation with him.

"Yes, a spider at the center of a web containing over 600 years of plots, people, and governments." Trochar laughed "He is connected to anything and everything…. but how can I explain 600 years of corruption to a child? I cannot."

Hermione continued to stare blankly at the vampire, refusing to respond.

She had faced monsters before.

It wasn't poetic. It never was. It was always just blood and screams. Always red and painful.

She remembered something her father had once told her.

"Never trust a survivor, Hermione." He had warned, as he tried to steer her friendship away from Harry "Not until you find out what they did to stay alive."

But she wanted to know every terrible thing Harry and Ron did, so that she could love them even more for surviving.

Trochar, growing angrier at her unresponsive demeanor, lunged forward grabbing her by her bloody hair and lifting her to her feet.

She could have put up more of a fight, but Hermione already resigned herself to whatever fate life would deal her now.

By now Fenrir must have been caught by the wolves.

She hated herself for the cold way she treated him in her heart. She wanted to spare him this fate, and yet life always seemed to demand a blood sacrifice from children and innocents.

She was supposed to save him…. Everyone.

Perhaps, time was fixed and could never be changed? Perhaps their mission was in vain?

Trochar pulled at her chains so Hermione had no choice but to hang without rest. Her arms and muscles screamed in protest as the chains pulled at her.

But she remained silent, still.

Hermione understood that she would be tortured horribly. She knew the vampire would draw it out. She knew she couldn't stay silent forever, but for now her silence gave her one thing she could have control over.

That was enough.

Anticipation shinned behind Trochar's eyes.

"Auferte omnen!" Trochar hissed, extending his white had towards Hermione.

Instantly, her clothes disappeared leaving her naked and terribly exposed. She tried not to shudder as the cold air hit her body.

"You may be somewhat innocent after all," Trochar mused, lifting Hermione's chin to study her expression of anger and shame "but your father isn't."

There was a moment Hermione felt inexplicable and strongly sensuous confusion when the perfume of Trochar's skin filled her nostrils. It was a hunting tactic that vampires used to lure in their prey. They sent, their eyes, their fierceness- all of it was intoxicating. How could it not be?

His hand raised once more, and, in the vampires, hand was conjured a black whip.

On the outside Hermione remained stoic, but inside she was terrified.

All she could think about was Lucius Malfoys laughter as he whipped her. She remembered the blows cutting through her skin.

"I could see a memory when I took in your blood." Trochar breathed, looking lustful and mad "I could see a whip…and your back. I could hear your screams…will you scream for me too?"

Hermione lunged at Trochar, even as the chains bit deeply into her flesh.

In a feat of evil, He moved back away from me, as if pulled by an invisible force

Trochar unfurled the whip, swinging it in front of her face sadistically.

And then Trochar moved faster than Hermione could see. It was then that she felt the whip slash across her breasts and belly.

The sound of her flesh being torn echoed through the cell, but Hermione refused to cry out.

The muscles on her neck and arms tensed as the strikes fell.

Fenrir…

Please be alive!

Did I saved him from his fate, or am I the result of the inevitable?

Was he still alive?

By the time the tenth whip fell against her skin, Hermione whimpered making Trochar hit her harder.

She swayed unable to stand any longer but was unable to rest. Her hair was soaked with blood, and the slashes across her chest slowly began to heal.

"Demon!" Hermione cried as Trochar waited for her to heal, only to strike her all over again.

It was hours before the vampire tired himself out and rolled the whip around his hand.

Hermione hung from her wrists, her breathing labored and tight as her wounds began to heal, again.

By this time, the marks healed themselves into scars. Trochar gave her another sadistic smile, lifting the whip to his lips, which was covered in blood, and licked it.

She would not give into fear, she would not give him the satisfaction!

Hermione howled, mad with rage. There were no tears, only anger.

For hours she fought against the binds, against the fall of each lash, until Hermione's feet would no longer support her. Having lost so much blood and magical energy that healed her repeatedly, she went limp.

Had it not been for the magical blood of the Flamel's, Hermione knew she would have been dead.

Her entire body ached even though her skin had healed. Her skin burned, escalating her into an unbearable level of pain. Her akin felt as thin as paper.

As Hermione closed her eyes, trying to block out the pain, she began to drift unconscious. She felt Trochar's cold fingers smoothing over her cheek gently, almost lovingly before she passed out.

Her one last wish being that Fenrir somehow managed to escape his fate.

"Dear God," Hermione prayed in her heart "Let Fenrir be okay…. let Harry and Ron come for me…. Please God, help me change our fate!"

It had been a long time since Hermione had prayed- perhaps to nothing…

but perhaps not.

….

"I received your letter, Lord Voldemort." The vampire Sanguini, eyeing the light at the end of Tom Riddle's wand with irritation "However, I only came to tell you never to contact me, or my master's clan again. You know how Lord Trochar feels about you, or haven't you learned your lesson?"

"What happened in the forest was unfortunate, but my intentions were pure." Tom said silkily, craning his head to the side to give the vampire a clearer view of his jugular.

Sanguini moved too quickly for Tom too see.

A gust of magic extinguished Tom's light, leaving him committed unmercifully to total darkness.

"Ha! Pure!" Sanguini laughed inches from Tom, playing with a lock of his hair "Neither of us knows such a word!"

It took everything in Tom not to strike out against the vampire, but all he could think about was Hermione Flamel…

No.

Hermione Grainger.

He didn't quite understand why he felt compelled to take her back. He didn't love the girl, and barely tolerated her. It was the sheer wave of possessiveness that urged Tom on.

"The revolution has already begun with Grindelwald." Tom smirked, licking his full lips "I know he has recruited all manner of creature. But he needs the support of wizards as well- preferably prominent wizards with connections."

With the most curious and poignant face, Sanguini stared at Tom.

"Take me to Lord Trochar." Tom spoke seriously "Allow me to make him a proper Blood Offering in myself, so that he would know my sincerity to the cause."

The vampire was silent for a moment before bursting out into peals of laughter.

"You're quite the silver-tongued snake, aren't you?" Sanguini chuckled "Fine, I'll take you to my master, if only to see him crush your skull in."

In one quick motion, Sanguini scooped Tom into his arms. One arm slip under Toms back and the other under his knees.

Tom didn't have time to sneer as Sanguini kicked off from the ground and flew impossibly fast through the night sky.


End file.
